Deadly Negotiations
by LadyRainbow
Summary: Sequel to Boomer Bust. Travis, Malcolm and Philippe deal with the twisted politics with the Boomers and the trading consortiums. Expanded Chapter 1, reworked Chapters 5 and 6. COMPLETE wCH. 12
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Wish I did**

**Notes: This immediately follows the events in "Boomer Bust". Read that fic first to understand what's going on. Travis is heading a Starfleet delegation to strengthen negotiations with the Boomers and the Trading Consortiums of the Earth colonies.**

**If McKenzie sounds familiar...she was present/mentioned in 3 episodes, "Anomaly" "E2" and "Countdown". In fact, in E2, she and Travis were supposed to get married in that alternate timeline.**

Deadly Negotiations

**One**

Shuttlepod One angled on its landing approach to Cochrane's Commons. Alpha Centauri's most exclusive set of businesses and residences occupied a huge swath of property along the northern temperate zone. Like all the other settlements on Centauri, a huge transparent dome covered it, shielding the inhabitants from the rigors of space.

"Pity they've blocked the best views of space. They don't know what they're missing."

Lieutenant Travis Mayweather spared a glance over his shoulder at the speaker. "Yeah, I guess they weren't kidding when they wanted this place to be _exclusive_, Malcolm."

Lieutenant Commander Malcolm Reed sighed and shook his head. "I can understand it from a security standpoint, but, still, it's a pity."

For the first time on this trip, Crewman Philippe Trieste spoke up, his French accent heavier than usual. "The commander is correct, though. The ones who live here prefer their security and their privacy more than their views."

Travis gave him a sympathetic look. Philippe had grown up here, in Cochrane's Commons, the only son of a Centaurian shipping magnate, Estelle de Montclaire Limited. The only son and now its only heir. Travis and Malcolm were assigned to escort him home to settle his affairs, but the trip had become more complicated than anyone expected.

The helmsman sighed and turned back to his instruments. He wasn't looking forward to this meeting with Phillipe's uncle, Guillem Montclaire. The man had tried to kidnap Philippe and Malcolm and hired Orions to do it. Of course, there was no viable proof to show he was behind the kidnapping, although Travis knew otherwise.

_We aren't taking any chances. Guillem Montclaire is a dangerous man._ Both Malcolm and Captain Archer insisted on a security detail on this mission. Travis had been surprised at the armory officer's choices of escort. He caught Captain Fiona McKenzie's glance at her fellow MACO. MacKenzie had taken over the unit after Major Hayes's death; Travis had no idea that her men were anywhere close to Centauri, but obviously, Malcolm had called some favors.

A blinking light on the communications panel interrupted Travis's train of thought. "EdML is hailing us," Malcolm reported. "Priority Two secured frequency."

"Answer it," Travis replied. Although Malcolm technically outranked him, Travis's new position as Starfleet negotiator put him in charge of this mission. He winced inwardly as he remembered how he'd "earned" that position. _Admiral Forrest owes me big time for this one._

A face appeared on the screen. The man's blond hair curled at his shoulders, framing a triangular-shaped face with large aqua eyes. He had a narrow nose and thin lips, high cheekbones and a slight cleft in his chin. Travis saw the strong family resemblance between uncle and nephew.

"Lieutenant Mayweather, I presume," Guillem Montclaire said with a slight smile. "I trust your journey to Alpha Centauri had been eventful?"

"You might say that," Travis replied, keeping the irony out of his voice.

"I am grateful that you have brought my nephew home at last. We have much to discuss concerning the family business. Let me be the first to welcome you to Bellevue. Any friend of Philippe's is a friend of mine and anything you need will be met."

"_Merci beaucoup, Monsieur_," Travis said.

"Ah, you speak French, Monsieur Mayweather?"

"Not well, unfortunately, but I'm learning. Your nephew had been instrumental in correcting that lack."

"Good. I look forward to meeting you and Lieutenant Commander Reed. Please tell the commander that his illustrious reputation precedes him, and that my security chief is eager to discuss security and tactical matters with him. One can never be too careful, _n'cest-ce pas_?"

Travis only inclined his head in reply. The fake hospitality made him want to take a shower, it was so sweet. "Of course, Monsieur Montclaire. I'll be sure to tell the commander."

"_A bient__ô__t, Monsieur. Montclaire, finis_." His image winked out, leaving the EdML logo of an angel carrying a flaming torch, surrounded by thirteen stars.

"That was bloody interesting," Malcolm commented with a scowl. "He didn't even want to talk to Philippe, even though he knew Philippe was here."

Philippe's tone was carefully controlled. "He's saving the grand welcome until we land at Bellevue, where everyone can see it. I'm betting he's having this meeting beamed to every EdML installation in the system."

"Then we'll give them a good show, won't we," Malcolm said with a humorless smile.

"Yes, we will," Travis said. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw McKenzie's stoic expression, but her eyes reflected the same kind of worry he had. Protecting Philippe was the important thing; Guillem's grandstanding be damned.

Bellevue, the Montclaire's estate, had its own landing strip and spaceport. Travis followed the clear sign markers to the runway and landed Shuttlepod One with hardly a bump. Before he cut the engines, he heard a muttered oath from Malcolm.

"What's wrong?"

"He's got a whole caravan of hangers-on waiting for us, Travis, and the entire perimeter is ringed with guards. I don't like the look of it at all."

"Not many escape routes in case we need to run for it," McKenzie added. "We're pretty much hemmed in."

"Damn." Travis muttered under his breath. "Philippe?"

Philippe only nodded to himself. "The usual homecoming, it seems. I don't think my uncle would try anything here; his image is too important. Now, when we get to Bellevue...that's when I'd worry, Lieutenant Commander, Captain."

"All right, then. Let's put on that show," Travis said, sounding a lot more confident than he felt. "Lady and gentlemen?" MacKenzie nodded to her fellow MACOs and they lined up as Malcolm unlocked the shuttle hatch. Travis squared his shoulders and exchanged a smile with Philippe. Together they stepped out into the bright Centaurian morning.

"_Â__llo, Philippe. Comment __ç__a va?" _heasked. Hello, Philippe, how are you?

Philippe only raised an eyebrow at his uncle. "_Tr__P__s bien, Oncle._ _Et vous?"_

They exchanged formal greetings in French. Travis was soon lost in the rapid-fire chatter, but he watched both men dance around each other, like two combatants in the arena. Neither trusted the other, and judging from Guillem's expression, this was a more complicated conversation than it seemed. Malcolm followed it with a hint of interest, his face an implacable mask, but Travis knew that he understood every word.

_I wonder if Guillem knows that,_ Travis wondered, _that Malcolm can understand what he's saying to Philippe. Damn, I knew I should've attended more French Hour meetings with Hoshi._

Finally, Philippe and Guillem exchanged traditional kisses on each cheek, and Guillem put an arm around Philippe's shoulders. Malcolm, McKenzie and the MACOs tensed at the gesture; Guillem's smile was wry as he released hold of his nephew.

"Lieutenant Mayweather, Lieutenant Commander Reed, an honor and a pleasure to finally meet you both. I am certain that we have much to discuss, and not only about Philippe's installment as head of EdML." Guillem extended a hand to Travis, who shook it, then to Malcolm, who did the same. Then he indicated the clutch of "hangers-on", as Malcolm had aptly termed them.

"My executive board..." As Guillem made the introductions, Travis plastered the smile on his face. Each man gave him a cool nod as he was acknowledged. None of them seemed enthusiastic about Philippe's arrival; in fact, the majority of them were downright sullen. Travis doubted he would find any allies here.

"Shall we proceed to Bellevue? I understand the household has prepared a feast in your honor, Nephew, and yours, Monsieur Mayweather. Please, this way."

Travis nodded and the whole group followed Guillem and Philippe. Philippe looked as tense as a harpstring ready to snap. He gave Travis a hooded look as they went through the terminal and its myriad security stations and cameras. Guillem glanced over his shoulder and directed a question to Malcolm, who only responded with a predatory smile.

"What'd he say?" Travis whispered.

"'You don't trust me, do you?'" Philippe whispered.

Malcolm's reply needed no translation.

"_No, Monsieur."_


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Wish I did.**

**Notes: The plot thickens...Someone's not happy about Travis', Philippe's and Malcolm's arrival. Sergeant Nathan Kemper (MACO) makes an appearance here. (BTW, JadziaKathryn...both issues will be addressed, but you'll have to read more to find the answers. ;))**

**To my American friends: "solicitor" equals "lawyer" as in someone who specializes in legal documents and other areas, as opposed to "barrister", which is like a prosecutor/defense attorney in court.( in case you get confused by Malcolm's terminology)**

**Rated T for some language.**

**R/S implied.**

**Two**

Again, Guillem Montclaire surprised them all. Instead of a grand gala, he opted for a small gathering in Bellevue's gardens, with only family and guests in attendance. Although the homecoming party was smaller than Travis had expected, Guillem hadn't spared any cost. The current head of EdML hired an exclusive Centaurian catering service, which provided the food and decor. Chairs and tables were arranged under a huge tent in the main garden, all festooned with EdML's blue and gold colors. The floral arrangements had been artfully done in small baskets and the full fury of the Centaurian sun cast shadows inside the tent.

"Almost feels just like home," Philippe commented. He sat at one of the tables with a glass of champagne in his hand. Travis thought he looked more relaxed since his father's death. "We used to do this a lot; my mother was a superb hostess. I keep thinking that if I look over my shoulder, she'll be there."

Travis sighed and sipped from his own glass. "She planned these social events?"

"That's what she loved to do. She was the company's social and hospitality director. Father took care of the business side, while she wined and dined the clients and investors. She made a lot of friends...and equally as many enemies." Philippe said, his voice quiet. "There are a lot of people on the list of suspects, Travis, too many for me to count."

"You believe your parents' deaths weren't natural?" Travis covered his unease with a glance around the inside of the tent. He spotted Guillem Montclaire talking with Malcolm Reed; Guillem noticed his scrutiny. Travis grinned and lifted his glass in a salute. Guillem returned the smile and the salute.

"I believe they were...convenient." Philippe didn't have a chance to explain his suspicions further, for a string of cousins approached him. Immediately, they enfolded him in huge perfumed hugs, chattering all the while. To his credit, Philippe became the charming, smiling, young man that Travis had only seen glimpses of since meeting him on the _Enterprise_.

_It's amazing to see the transformation, _Travis mused. He remembered seeing a pile of lunch invitations on the wall board in Philippe's quarters on the _Enterprise._ Philippe may have been low-key in Starfleet, but here, he seemed to be completely within his element.

_Does that mean he'll leave _Enterprise _to run EdML, just like his mother wanted? Or will he return to Starfleet? _Travis honestly had no idea. Philippe hadn't said anything one way or the other, and when Travis pressed the issue, he only sidestepped the important question. Perhaps Philippe wasn't sure himself.

Guillem's voice suddenly caught Travis's attention. "Perhaps, _Monsieur _Reed, you would ask your fiancee to go over the transaction documents? I understand she is a woman of words."

"She isn't my fiancee, and she's a linguist, not a solicitor."

Guillem seemed taken aback. "_Pardon_. My nephew had told me about your lovely lady, and I naturally assumed...well, my thought was that she might possibly catch any mistakes or misunderstandings in the paperwork before I formally transfer control of the company to Philippe. I want to make sure there aren't any future legal entanglements that my nephew might have to deal with."

_Oh, he sounds so sincere, _Travis fumed. As far as he knew, Philippe hadn't said one word about Hoshi Sato. Guillem must have known about Malcolm's and her relationship through his spies on the _Ragnarok_. And the smirk on Guillem's face as he talked about the "lovely lady"...Travis saw a dangerous glint in Malcolm's eyes, although the armory officer's face kept its look of polite interest.

"I'll have to ask her if she's willing to do so," Malcolm finally said. "She has her obligations elsewhere."

"I understand if she is unable to make the time. Captain Archer must have great need of her services."

Travis turned his head to see Philippe still in the middle of the group of cousins, but they were migrating out of the tent and into the gardens. _No, not migrating. They're herding him. I'd better follow them and make sure he'll be okay._ He picked up his glass of champagne and strolled towards one of the waitstaff. The young woman offered him a full glass, which he accepted with a nod. In the glass's reflection, he saw Philippe heading towards a granite bench with his entourage hanging onto him. Philippe sat on the bench with his cousins arrayed around him, like a king with his courtiers. It would have been highly amusing, if Travis thought it was as innocent as it seemed.

"Sir," a soft voice broke into his thoughts.

"McKenzie?" he asked, just as softly.

The MACO captain appeared at his side as if she was a wraith. "I'll keep an eye on him, sir. Kemper's on his far side, where the peanut gallery can't see him. If they try anything, we'll stop them."

"Thanks, Captain. I really appreciate it."

"That's our job, Lieutenant." McKenzie gave him a ghost of a smile, then she exited the tent. As he watched her go, Travis thought, _She learned a lot from Major Hayes. Hell, she's beginning to even _sound _like him. _And for the first time, Travis added, _I wonder if the major would've taken this assignment if Malcolm had asked him._

He took another sip of his champagne and stepped out of tent. True to her words, McKenzie had already vanished from sight, but Travis still felt her presence. Philippe waved to him gaily and he made his way towards him. Philippe gently took a pair of hands off his shoulders; the cousin pouted, but kept her paws to herself.

"_A plus tard, mon cherie," _he said in a friendly but firm voice. "Travis! I do believe you haven't met my gaggle of relatives here. They're very eager to meet you."

"Uh...hello," Travis stuttered as five pairs of hungry eyes focused on him. They sized him up like a wolf gazing at its prey. Or a bunch of Orion women at an all-male harem. He felt those eyes weighing him, evaluating his potential, and the force of it made him hesitate. _Philippe, I'm gonna get you for this..._

That hesitation saved his life.

There was no warning at all. The next thing he knew, a body slammed into his, knocking him out of the way of a laser. He hit the ground hard, stunned. "Sir? Lieutenant?"

"What the hell—?" he managed to gasp. Another volley passed over him and forced him flat onto the ground again. "Someone's shooting at us! Where's Philippe?" Travis lifted his head to see Philippe crouched behind the granite bench, another MACO at his side. Travis recognized the sandy-haired man: _Sergeant Nate Kemper. _The bench wasn't much cover, but at least it was some cover. The empty-headed cousins had fled out of the line of fire.

"Start crawling to your left." McKenzie's voice in his ear made him jump. "There're some bushes there. I'm right behind you."

Travis did as she directed. He heard commotion from behind him, from the tent, but he couldn't spare a minute to look at what was going on. A rustle alerted him and he reacted without conscious thought. He rolled out of the way as a line of laser fire stitched the ground he'd been laying on. He could feel the burn of the lasers, smell the singe of his uniform after the near miss.

There was a shriek, then a curse as McKenzie half stumbled, half-crawled to his side. He saw blood oozing out of her shoulder and had to swallow to keep his gorge down. The shot had passed through her right arm, but she still held her phase rifle in her left hand. Travis swore, then glanced over his own shoulder. A pair of cold eyes glared at him from a rose bush and the sunlight glinted on the barrel...

McKenzie raised the phase rifle and fired a quick shot. It didn't hit the sniper, but it did disrupt his aim, and the shot went wide. The movement was too much for her and the rifle fell from her nerveless fingers. Travis scooped it up, pushing aside the realization that the trigger was slick with her blood.

"Hang on, Fiona," he whispered harshly. "I'm gonna get that son-of-a-bitch."

"Don't—" she whispered. "Don't do something stupid."

Travis's eyes scanned the foliage in the garden, but the sniper was gone. A soft crack of a broken twig alerted Travis to his new location. The sniper was not aiming not for Travis, but for Philippe. Kemper knelt between the sniper and his target, but he knew that the MACO would be the first to fall.

"Nate! Philippe! DOWN!"

Kemper reacted swiftly, pulling Philippe further under the bench and protecting him with his own body. At the same time, Travis fired the phaser rifle into the bushes. A second beam slammed into the sniper from behind, while a third knocked him sideways. His body tumbled out of the bushes and didn't move again.

"Travis!" Malcolm appeared from a stand of lemon trees. Another woman stepped out from a set of foliage to Travis's right. She wore the blue-and-gold of EdML's security force. Travis realized that they had fired the second and third laser beams. Philippe struggled to his knees, despite Kemper's attempts to hold him back.

"Call a medic! Fiona's hurt!" Travis put a hand on McKenzie's neck and found a weak pulse. He stripped his uniform jacket, wrapped it around her shoulder and arm, and pulled it tight to stem the bleeding. A man in a formal Centaurian suit rushed to his side, a medkit strapped to his belt.

"_Je m'appelle Bernard. Je suis medicin, Monsieur Travis_," he told him. Travis nodded and allowed Doctor Bernard to attend to Fiona. He straightened and went towards Malcolm, Philippe and the security chief, passing Kemper on the way.

"A doctor's with her, Nate. Make sure she pulls through."

"Yes, sir." Kemper gave him an odd look.

"I owe her my life. I don't want her to die."

"We'll make sure she doesn't, sir." Kemper nodded once, then went to McKenzie's side.

By the time Travis reached Philippe, the younger man was staring down at the sniper's body. With a jerk, he grabbed hold of the man's hood and pulled it off his head. Empty blue eyes stared into the bushes, his mouth pulled into a grimace. Philippe's mouth tightened.

"You know him?" Travis asked.

"His name is Truman Fitzgerald," Philippe said, his voice soft with controlled fury. "He works for Tanaka Enterprises."


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Wish I did.**

**Notes: Travis and Philippe come up with a plan to save EdML. **

**Three more MACOs make their appearances here: Money, Romero and Chang.**

**Rating: T**

Three

The Trieste family estate was a mass of controlled chaos. Guillem insisted that Travis and Philippe be sent to the private hospital to make sure they were uninjured. Travis told him that if he was going there, then McKenzie should go there too. After much hemming and hawing, Guillem gave his permission. Malcolm stayed behind to secure the area and launch his own investigation.

"Your bodyguard will be fine, Monsieur Mayweather," said the doctor, Bernard, "but she must remain here in the hospital for at least four or five days."

"Can I see her?" Travis asked, as he stood up from the chair in the hallway..

"She is under sedation and cannot take visitors, but I will inform you when it is possible." Bernard smiled and clapped a hand on Travis's shoulder. "She really cares for you, if her actions are any indication."

"She'd say that it was just her job. Fiona's a professional." He looked over at Nate Kemper, who was keeping vigil at McKenzie's door. The sergeant made no sign he'd heard the doctor's words, and Travis hoped he didn't take Bernard's comment at more than face value.

His communicator chirped and he flipped it open. "Mayweather."

"How are you holding up, Travis?" came the voice of Captain Archer.

"I'm all right. Philippe's getting checked out right now and McKenzie's out of danger."

"Malcolm told us what happened. I'm sending Romero, Money and Chang from McKenzie's MACO unit over to you. Money will be your bodyguard, Chang is Philippe's, and Romero will be Malcolm's shadow."

Travis caught Kemper's broad grin and returned a grin of his own. "Thanks, Captain. It's much appreciated."

"Has Philippe made his decision yet about whether or not he's staying on Centauri?"

Travis sighed and replied, "We've been down here less that twenty-four hours, sir. Honestly, I don't know. He—"

There was an insistent beep on the line, then Archer said, "That's Malcolm. Stay on the line, Travis." There was a long pause, then he said, "Go ahead, Malcolm. Travis is listening in too."

"Sir," came the clipped British accent. "We've done a DNA analysis of the sniper. Philippe is correct; the man had left EdML's years ago and is currently employed with Tanaka Enterprises. According to our sources, he was known to be headstrong, independent and rash. All the visible evidence says that he was a rogue who took matters into his own hands, without Tanaka Enterprises's knowledge and permission."

"Of course," Travis muttered. "Wait...you said visible evidence—"

"Indeed I did, Travis, but I would much rather not discuss that on this channel. It would compromise the investigation here."

Travis heard the unspoken warning: _We're being overheard. Don't give away any more information. _"I understand, Commander. How much longer do you need?"

"Three or four hours should do it...Monsieur Montclaire and his family have been cooperative, as well as their Security detachment." Malcolm's tone told Travis just what he thought of Guillem's security force. "I will consult with Marshall Fontaneu about improving the security protocols so this kind of event doesn't happen again."

Archer muttered something under his breath that Travis didn't catch. Then he said, "Good. I want Guillem Montclaire to contact me when you're done with him, Malcolm. He's due for a long chat with Admiral Forrest and me. We want him to understand what's at stake here."

"I'll let him know, sir. Reed, out."

Archer addressed Travis again. "Travis, I want you and Philippe to stay at the hospital until the MACOs get there. Tell Kemper to stay with McKenzie; we aren't taking any chances. And tell Philippe that he needs to make his decision as soon as possible. The sooner we finish negotiations with EdML, the better."

"I definitely agree with you there, sir. I'll talk with Philippe. Mayweather, out." Travis flipped his communicator closed. He finally noticed Philippe standing a few feet away from him, a PADD in his hand. "How much of that did you hear?"

"Most of it. Enough to know that my uncle is in a lot of trouble," Philippe replied. "Travis, we need to talk."

"Sure." Travis nodded at Kemper, then went with Philippe to the visitors' lounge down the hall. He closed the door as Philippe sat at the table. Philippe activated his PADD and slid it over to Travis.

"I went through the legal documents that were in the consortium files. According to them, I can appoint an intermediary in my place, to oversee EdML's day-to-day functions on Centauri. That person will be responsible for trade negotiations between Centauri and Earth."

Travis brightened. "That means you can go back to _Enterprise_ if you wanted to, right?"

"I could, but there's a caveat." Philippe sighed and ran a hand through his short blond hair. "Whoever I select has to be approved by the executive board and at least three-fourths of the shareholders. That's a tall order, especially since I know that most of the board is on my uncle's side." His handsome face darkened. "And the list of candidates I can trust is a very short one."

"Crap. Okay, assuming that you can't find an intermediary, that means you have to take leadership from your uncle."

Philippe nodded. "In that case, the transition period can last from a few weeks to a few months, depending on how complicated the process is. I can choose who will be on the board and with whom I can negotiate trade agreements. The downside is that I'll have to resign my Starfleet position, and I'm not sure I want to do that yet."

"And the third option is to step aside and let Guillem take over EdML on a permanent basis. That doesn't sit well with Admiral Forrest and the other trade consortiums."

"That pretty much covers it." Philippe sighed and leaned back in his chair. "I'm pretty sure that you're supposed to ensure that option numbers one or two happens. Either way, I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place."

An uneasy silence settled over the two of them. Then Travis said, "Well, at least we do know what our options are. We've got time to do some brainstorming until the MACOs get here. There's got to be a way to get you out of that hard place. First off, I want you to tell me everything you know about EdML's people, who you think we can convince on our side. Then we need to look at both scenarios and see what we need to do for each one."

Philippe managed a smile. "_Bien_. I hope the MACOs take their time getting here, because we'll be busy for a while."

* * *

They sat in that lounge for a few hours, huddling over the PADD and discussing both options. Travis learned about the complications of owning a trading consortium; the legal and unspoken ramifications were enough to make his head swim. Philippe, on the other hand, patiently explained the issues and put in his own ideas. He already looked—and sounded—like the head of EdML, despite his claims. 

"When you said you had a short list of candidates, you weren't kidding," Travis said as he scanned the names Philippe had written down. _Mme. Ysandra Vernet. Msr. Gareth Kensey. Mms. Collette du Prende. Msr. Angelique Suveaut. _"All four are long-time employees of EdML and close associates of your parents. All four have impeccable service records, all four are staunchly loyal to Rene's vision of EdML. When are you planning to interview them?"

"Within the week, preferably within the next few days. I want to see if any of them is worthy to take my place as intermediary. I'd prefer that my uncle stay out of this; they will be reluctant to talk with him at my shoulder."

"So we need to distract Guillem. I think we can arrange something on that end," Travis said with a smile. "Malcolm said something about improving the security around there, and I overheard Guillem asking him if Hoshi could go over the legal documents to make sure they're legitimate."

"Perfect." Philippe's smile was almost feral, with bright teeth. "I'll also have to talk with each member of the executive board and see where he stands. It will be interesting to hear what they have to say without my uncle's presence."

"Yeah. They'd probably tell you things that are off the record." Travis sighed and rubbed his temples. "Sounds like a good plan, Philippe. Just one more thing: what happens to Guillem, when either you or the intermediary takes over?"

Philippe shrugged. "He can choose to be on the board or he can stay in an advisory position, but his power is greatly reduced. He has a lot to lose in either case. He's very fond of power, my uncle."

"And that makes him dangerous." Travis rubbed his temples. "We'll have to beat him at his own game."

"_Exactement, mon ami_. And between us, we will do it." Philippe smiled again, and this time, Travis couldn't help a shudder at how cold it was.

_I just hope you don't lose your soul in the process, Philippe. _


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Wish I did.**

**Language Translations: _"Esta bien?" (You OK? in Spanish)_. In Japanese, the suffix _"-sama" _is a high honorific for a very VIP. "_-san" i_s the equivalent of "Mr/Mrs/Miss" and _"-chan"_ is used as an affectionate nickname. "_Doomo arigatoo gozaimasu" _means "Thank you very much (formal mode)."**

**Like Hoshi Sato, I love languages and when I write fiction (ENT or other), I enjoy using other languages in my stories.**

**Four**

It was late evening by the time Travis and Philippe returned to Bellevue. They were accompanied by Corporals Romero and Chang, as well as Sergeant Kemper. Corporal Money insisted on taking his vigil at McKenzie's side so Kemper could get some rest. Although he protested, Travis pointed out that neither Fiona nor anyone else would be safe if he was dead from exhaustion.

They went through the entrance to the Grand Foyer. Like the rest of the house, Bellevue's walls were a made of a buttercream-colored marble, with gold molding and accents. The Sitting Parlor was off to the right of the Foyer, isolated by a pair of folding wooden doors. The Library, Kitchen and Sunroom occupied the southern part of the level, with a large spiral staircase at the end of the hall that led to the second floor. The Triestes and Montclaires hadn't spared any cost in decoration; the artwork and furniture alone would keep a small colony in operation for years.

Voices floated from the Library. Travis listened as the tone rose and fell, not quite angry but not exactly civil either. He caught Kemper's glance. "Sir, it sounds like someone's having some kind of disagreement."

"Guillem," Travis said after a moment, "but I don't recognize the other voice. Do you, Philippe?"

He closed his eyes, then opened them again. "Someone on the interstellar line. It must be one of his shareholders. Let me see what's the matter." Philippe walked towards the Library, with Corporal Chang trailing him.

Travis waited for several moments with a jumpy Sergeant Kemper and Corporal Romero. Romero, in particular, seemed uncomfortable in the opulent surroundings. Then Travis remembered: Alejandro Romero's family lived on Altair, which was controlled by a wealthy despot. Romero had mentioned some "incidents" in passing that involved his father, grandfather and the local authorities.

"_Eh, Alejandro. Esta bien?"_ Kemper asked softly.

The corporal managed a smile. "_Si, Sergente. _I'll be okay. I think."

"Brings back bad memories?"

Romero winced. "I'd rather not talk about it, _Sergente_."

"If you need to talk later, I'll listen."

"_Gracias, Sergente."_ He gave Kemper a grateful look, then turned his attention back to a particularly tasteless marble statue. Travis nodded at Kemper; the sergeant had the makings of a fine officer.

_Lord, I'm getting old_, Travis thought dryly. _And I'm not _that_ much older than Nate or Alejandro._

Philippe stuck his head back into the hall and pointed at Travis with his chin. Travis nodded and quietly slipped between the Library doors, with Kemper and Romero following close behind. Guillem Montclaire was talking with someone on the viewscreen of a comm console. On the couch behind him sat Malcolm Reed, and next to him, to Travis's surprise and delight sat Hoshi Sato.

The woman on the viewscreen held herself with some dignity, despite the rips in her silk kimono and the four parallel scratches at her right temple. The gray hair there was still matted with her blood. Now she glared at Guillem Montclaire with bottomless black eyes. Guillem tried to keep his facade of calm arrogance, but the sweat dripped off his chin

"I can assure you, Montclaire, I did not send the assassin to your private party," she said, her cold tone with a touch of scorn. She'd pronounced the name as _mo-no-cray-ru, _since Japanese didn't have the "l" sound. "If I had, the targets would have been dead at the first shot."

"How assuring," Guillem replied, dryly sarcastic. "You have great faith in your corporate assassins, Madame Tanaka. Quite the touch, too, using one of my nephew's school friends—"

She inclined her head, her beautiful face growing colder. "I might say the same thing as well, Montclaire. The one who attempted to kill me came from EdML's ranks, one whom your deceased brother-in-law knew well. You tell me you did not send Edvard here?"

"He left here in disgrace months ago. I had no idea of his whereabouts, and I certainly didn't re-hire him after the mess he left. It took me weeks to straighten things out."

Travis glanced at Philippe and mouthed silently, _Sumiko Tanaka? Of Tanaka Enterprises?_ Philippe nodded, but he didn't take his eyes off his uncle's screen.

.Now Travis understood why Hoshi was here. She observed the interaction between Sumiko and Guillem; as a linguist, she could read and interpret non-verbal language as well as verbal. Although both women were of Japanese origin, they looked as different from each other as night at day. Right now, Hoshi had a look of intense interest on her face as she watched Sumiko..

_They definitely hate each other, _Travis thought, _Guillem and Sumiko. I think that Sumiko would reach out from Vega and strangle him if she could. _This casual talk of corporate assassins unnerved him, but Philippe made no visible reaction. A shiver went down his spine as he wondered if this was just business as usual.

And if that was the case, Travis really worried about Philippe's future here.

Guillem was still talking. "Your assassin targeted Philippe, but the primary target was the Starfleet negotiator, Lieutenant Travis Mayweather. One of his bodyguards was injured in the firefight and it took Mayweather, Lieutenant Commander Reed, and Marshall Raemon to bring him down."

Her mouth twisted into a smirk as she said, "Yes, so he was trained well, wasn't he. You said the negotiator's name is Mayweather?" _Ma-e-weh-de-ru._

"Yes, why?"

"Is he present? I would like to speak with him."

Before Travis could open his mouth, Guillem shrugged, gave Travis a pointed look, and said, "Yes, he is. Just a moment."

_Dammit, you idiot_. _She's Paul's new boss. Of course, she'd know who I am. _Travis got up and slid into the seat as Guillem vacated it. He managed a slight bow of greeting; Hoshi had taught him that much. "Tanaka-_sama_. I'm Lieutenant Mayweather."

Her face transformed from scorn to something that resembled respect. She bowed back, dipping low so her forehead nearly touched the surface of her desk. Hoshi's eyes went wide with surprise. "I am the one honored, Mayweather-_san_. Your brother has told me many good things about you. I am pleased by his command abilities and his negotiation skills. You must be proud of your family."

"Yes, I am, ma'am. I'm glad he's aiding your business." His words were genuine, for Paul would now be able to step out of his shadow. Travis pushed aside a stab of guilt at the thought.

"Family is important to us as well. It is what defines who we are. Mayweather-_san_, I understand Earth has an interest in promoting good relations between them and the Trading Consortiums. Would you make the time to come here to Vega? I have a proposal that might interest your Admiral Forrest. Of course—" she held up a hand, "—after you conclude your negotiations with EdML. I realize that the Montclaires are in the middle of transition, and that you are there to witness it. I cannot, and will not, interrupt that momentous occasion."

Travis raised an eyebrow as she caught her hidden meaning. _She has a vested interest in Philippe taking Guillem's place as head of EdML. Plus, her remark about family means that Paul is indebted to her now...and by extension, so am I. Clever woman. _"I can't make any promises, ma'am, because I must wait for orders from Starfleet after this, but I will certainly keep your generous invitation in mind."

That answer seemed to satisfy her. "_Doomo arigatoo gozaimasu, _Mayweather-_san. _I look forward to meeting with you soon. Now, Guillem—" she glanced to Travis's right, "—I will look into this attempt on your nephew's and our guest's lives, if you would kindly do that same on your end, concerning the attempt on mine."

"Rest assured that I will do everything within my power, my lady," Guillem replied.

"And please inform Philippe-_chan_ that I will arrange to speak with him privately regarding business between our consortiums. I refuse to let a misunderstanding destroy our history of cooperation and goodwill."

Guillem didn't look too happy about that, either, but he said, "I will."

"Good. Tanaka Enterprises, out." She reached forward and cut the connection.

Guillem blew out an angry breath. "The nerve of that woman, making assumptions that we will do all she says! She has no concern about your welfare, Philippe, only that she feels you are malleable enough for her purposes!"

Philippe scowled at his uncle and said, "_Au contraire, mon oncle._ You didn't make her any promises to her. I think, too, that she believes I'm a weak boy who doesn't have what it takes to run a consortium. She's wrong."

Travis glanced at Philippe. The younger man met his uncle's eyes and kept a steady gaze. It was Guillem who turned away first. Guillem asked, "_Mademoiselle _Sato? What are your impressions of Tanaka?"

Hoshi leaned forward from her seat on the couch. "She is formal and takes family honor seriously, almost fanatically. She sounds like she expects EdML to adhere to tradition because she does. And she most certainly expects to be obeyed." She frowned as she addressed Guillem, Philippe and Travis. "I'd be very careful around her, _Monsieurs."_

"You don't have to tell me twice," Travis muttered.

Guillem sighed and rubbed his eyes. He looked as exhausted as Travis felt. "Tomorrow, we'll go over the list of proposals from Starfleet, Monsieur Mayweather, and try to come to some kind of agreement. I would also like to speed up the handover of the company to Philippe and to do that, we need to go over the legal documents pertaining to that."

"Hoshi and I can do that," Travis said. "Philippe, will you be joining us?"

"I'll probably end up being in and out of that meeting, Lieutenant. Marshals Raemon and Bouvier have asked me to be present while Lieutenant Commander Reed installs the new security protocols. They think it's important that I be there and I agree with them."

Guillem had a questioning look on his face and he glanced at Malcolm. To his credit, Malcolm didn't so much as blink, much less look surprised. Instead, Malcolm only nodded once. Guillem sighed and turned back to Philippe. "But the Starfleet proposals...that's important business, Nephew."

"Yes, Uncle. That's why I'm not planning on spending the entire day with the security personnel. I _will_ be present for some of the meeting. While we were waiting for the MACOs at the hospital, the lieutenant and I sat together and went over Admiral Forrest's proposals. I made my notes and recommendations; you can see them if you wish..."

"I would be highly interested in them, yes. That was an efficient use of your time, Philippe." Guillem looked disturbed and impressed at the same time. "Quite efficient. Starfleet must have taught you a thing or two."

Philippe chuckled and looked pointedly at Travis and Malcolm. He held Malcolm's gaze longer, and the Armory officer responded with a slight smirk. "I've had excellent teachers, Uncle, who value the art of time management."

Guillem laughed and nodded at Malcolm. "For that, I am eternally grateful, Monsieurs. Well, I'm off to bed. Tomorrow will start earlier than we'd all like. _Bonne nuit, Monsieurs. Mademoiselle."_

"Good night, Guillem...oh, here's a copy of our work from when we were waiting at the hospital," Travis said as he gave Montclaire his PADD. "I figured you would want to at least look at it before going to bed."

"You're generous, Lieutenant, _merci._" Guillem accepted the PADD without trying to act as if he wanted to snatch it from Travis's fingers. After a short bow, he left the Library. All the MACOs relaxed visibly after he was gone. Romero, in particular, breathed a sigh of relief.

Hoshi raised her eyebrows at Travis and Philippe. So did Malcolm, and Travis grinned at how similar the they looked. "You two are up to something, aren't you," she said.

Travis gave her an innocent look. "What's wrong with being efficient?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Wish I did.**

**Notes: This is a reworked chapter. (I have at least one in every story, it seems. Sigh.) So yes, this is a different chapter five than the one that was here before. Someone asked me about how the MACOs got to Enterprise so quickly, so here's the answer. **

**Slight Spoilers for ENT "Harbinger" and "Countdown".**

**Rating: T**

**Five**

Travis sighed and rubbed his temples. His lunch sat untouched in front of him as he tried to concentrate on the PADD in his hand. A hand shot out and plucked the PADD out of his fingers. He glanced over his shoulder to see Sergeant Nate Kemper. The MACO tossed it into the center of the table, then sat down with his own lunch tray.

"Eat, sir," Kemper said. "You aren't going to be able to think straight in the next meeting if you don't."

Travis managed a smile and replied, "Yes, Dad. And I thought you were allergic to peanuts."

"Nope, I'm not. Alejandro is, though," Kemper said with his mouth full of peanut butter sandwich. "He's sticking close to Philippe and Chang's off annoying Lieutenant Commander Reed. Money and Hoshi's checking in on McKenzie. Good thing is, the doc over there, the strange French guy—"

"Bernard. And yeah, he's pretty strange. He makes Phlox looks sane." Kemper nearly spit out his sandwich at the remark, but he went on, "He's okay, though. Fiona's doing better than he expected, and she should be back on duty in a day or so."

"Yeah, she's pretty tough. There was a reason why the major left command of the unit to her."

That reminded Travis of something he wanted to ask him. "Nate, can you answer a question for me?"

"Yeah, sure, Lieutenant."

"How did Lieutenant Commander Reed managed to get you guys on this mission so quickly? I thought you guys went back to Earth after the Xindi thing."

"Ah, that. Well." Nate cleared his throat, then took a calculated sip of his water. "It's one of the Major's last standing orders."

"Hayes?"

"Yeah." Nate glanced around him, then lowered his voice. "After that fistfight with the Lieutenant Commander, he had some respect for Reed...um, grudging, you understand. I think he had more respect than he let on. I overheard the Major talk to Reed and said that if Reed needed anything at all in the future, just let him know. Of course, this was assuming the Xindi didn't blow us all to kingdom come."

"Then Hayes was killed on the Xindi Sphere—"

"And McKenzie kinda assumed the promise. So when Reed called her, well, it was a no-brainer. We owed Reed, so we came running." Kemper chuckled. "He's not a bad guy...even during the time we were on _Enterprise_, we thought he wasn't that bad. I dunno where he got the idea that the major was trying to take over—"

"Well, he and the major didn't exactly get along at first. He thought it was a professional take-over—" Kemper suddenly coughed and looked uncomfortable. Then Travis finally put two and two together and got five. "Personal, too?"

"Um...yeah. Let's just say that Reed was competing for more than just control of his department."

Travis sighed and looked up at the ceiling. _No wonder Malcolm was so pissed off. Though Hoshi and Hayes would've made a cute couple too. _"Did she know?"

"I don't know if she did or not, actually. You'll have to ask her. But the Major told us that if anything happened to her and he wasn't around...to make sure she was all right. And if Reed ever hurt her, to go kick his sorry ass." Kemper laughed at the memory. "Though I think it would take all of us at once to take Reed down if we did."

"I think Malcolm would take that as a compliment." Travis shook his head again at the story. So, that explained how the MACOs arrived so quickly, and why they seemed so overprotective.

"Yeah, don't tell the Lieutenant Commander about...well, the deal with Hoshi, OK. He doesn't know about that and I'm not sure how he'd react if he ever found out. Matt—Major Hayes—said he'd come back from the Beyond and yell at us if we told anyone."

"Matt? I thought his name was Jeremiah? Oh...his middle name, right. Fiona said something about that." Travis's grin became wider. "Don't worry, consider my lips sealed. If Matt comes back to haunt you, tell him he can yell at me because I asked." Travis's communicator chirped. He sighed and wiped his mouth with his napkin. "Damn. Come on, Nate. Time to play politician again."

"No offense, sir, but I'm glad you're doing it and not me. I'm more likely to tell 'em all to stick it where the sun doesn't shine."

"I'm not gonna say I'm not tempted," Travis admitted as they made their way to the exit.

* * *

It was a complicated affair. Not only was Guillem Montclaire and Philippe present, but the entire executive board, a handful of executive stockholders and EdML's lawyer, Yvonne Letrec. Also attending was Admiral Forrest and Captain Archer via subspace. Travis felt all eyes on him, but he ignored the cold glares of the EdML contingent. He took comfort in Archer's encouraging look and Forrest's smile. Hoshi sat next to Travis, and Malcolm and the MACOs took position around the room. 

To his surprise, the meeting went smoother than expected. Guillem took a professional attitude and kept a tight rein on his board. They quickly debated each point on the agenda and made some compromises, but it took all of Travis's skill to earn each one. The board members protested at every concession made.

"We cannot do this," Monsieur Pierre Biori groused. "_Imposible_, Monsieur Mayweather! This requires us to make sacrifices that will weaken the integrity of this consortium. Absolutely not."

"EdML will still be privately owned and administered," Travis pointed out. "The checks and balances will be in place. All we ask is that there be some kind of accountability with the Starfleet Transit Authority—"

Monsieur Giuseppe Vernet scowled and leaned forward, his hands still on the table. Those hands trembled, betraying every one of his eighty-four years. "Directly to a military organization? This is insane. The next thing you will have us do is allow military personnel to be stationed on our private property."

"How about if we appoint a neutral civilian liaison between the consortium and the Transit Authority?" Admiral Forrest spoke up. "One not affiliated with either EdML or Starfleet."

"As I recall, your Cargo Transit Authority tried to do this," Monsieur Jean Battonne pointed out. "And they were weak and ineffective. Because of that, we find ourselves in this dialogue to begin with!"

"The Cargo Transit Authority didn't discharge their duties as specified," Forrest's tone was cold, "partly because of political reasons and partly because of outside interference. We will not have a repeat of the CTA's ineffectiveness, believe me. There have been reports that were backdated more than ten years that never were investigated properly. That will be one of the first things we will correct."

Travis raised an eyebrow. _Reports like the ones about the murders of Philippe's parents?_ He noticed a dark look on Philippe's handsome's features and a disturbed expression on Guillem's . The head of EdML and his lawyer, Yvonne Letrec, exchanged a quick glance, so quick that Travis would have missed it if he wasn't keeping an eye on them. He spotted Kemper's nod of confirmation.

"...grievances against cargo transport claims, unexplained lapses in procedures, changes of personnel—"

"That is quite enough, Admiral Forrest," Guillem said. "I will not answer to your accusations unless you have tangible proof of them. I am sure my nephew will make this investigation high on his priority list when he assumes his rightful position as head of the consortium."

Philippe's tone was as cold as Forrest's. "Be advised that I will make a thorough investigation and find the truths of the matters, gentlemen. I understand the importance of a swift resolution, which will not happen if we are immersed in unproductive argument." He deliberately avoided looking at either his uncle or the admiral. "Lieutenant Mayweather, I believe we still have a major topic we have not even touched upon yet."

"Yes, Monsieur Trieste," Travis replied formally. "The issue of cargo transport convoys from system to system. I understand there are some consortiums who are already doing so for protection from pirates. Under the formal Cargo Transit Authority regulations, that's permitted as long as the convoy numbers six or less and with permission from the CTA and the associated consortiums."

Silence fell in the room. No one said a word as they all remembered what had happened to _Horizon_ and her sister ships. Then Guillem said, not unkindly, "As I recall, none of the cargo ships of the last attack had been affiliated with any consortium. Plus, it was the Cargo Transit Authority who accused them of contraband and fired upon them."

Monsieur Vernet added, "Perhaps this may be cause for all cargo transports to register with a consortium, to gain protection from such illegal attacks."

Travis opened his mouth to speak, but it was Captain Archer who interrupted this time. "Lieutenant Mayweather, it was my understanding that most crews of the transports aren't affiliated by choice, am I correct? What percentage of them are?"

Travis thought for a moment, then answered carefully, "I'd estimate that sixty-five percent of the Boomers aren't and thirty-five are. Most cargo captains prefer to be independent contractors, with the flexibility to accept contracts. They're more like free agents, if you want to put it that way."

Guillem stroked his chin. "Perhaps if more of the cargo captains and crews join a consortium of some sort, they might be able to form permanent convoy routes. We can provide adequate security to protect them from attacks from pirates and raiders."

"It would make it easier to keep record of manifests and crew transfers," piped up Monsieur Biori. "And it would cut down on the possibility of smugglers and rim runners as well."

Travis kept a tight rein on his temper. "Would registration with a consortium be required for a guarantee of protection? I don't know if some of the Boomer captains would agree with that."

"Pride goeth before a fall, Lieutenant," Guillem reminded him. "Forgive the reminder, but this last tragedy could have been prevented with adequate security measures."

He felt a tight grip on his arm from under the table. Hoshi had placed her hand on his wrist and squeezed it. Travis took a deep breath and counted to ten. Then twenty.

"They could register with the Starfleet Transit Authority," Forrest suggested. "That way, we can still keep track of them and they can still maintain their sense of independence. That pride that you refer to, Monsieur Montclaire, is the same one that built the consortiums in the first place. If you have no one who works for you, you have no business. Simple as that. I doubt you want to alienate your working force."

They spent more than four hours trying to work out an acceptable compromise. At the end, it still wasn't to Travis's liking, but at least the issue was being discussed. He breathed a sigh of relief as Guillem and Forrest brought the meeting to a close. The executive board lingered in the room, chatting with Guillem and Philippe. Travis wondered if Philippe had talked to any of the board members during the long lunch break, or any of the potential candidates to take his place as intermediary.

Malcolm put a hand on Travis's shoulder. "That was well done, all things considered," he said in a low voice. "I know that wasn't easy for you."

"Thanks, Malcolm." Travis replied. He tried not to smile at the odd looks that Kemper, Chang and Romero were giving Malcolm. "Actually, I'm glad we were able to talk like grown-ups for the most part."

"Yes, they were all on their best behavior," Philippe agreed, "even my uncle and Admiral Forrest. The board seems quite impressed by our performance, Travis. I think old Monsieur Vernet is considering hiring you permanently."

"I'll take my regular job, thanks." He looked at Monsieurs Biori and Battone as they left the room together. "Did you talk with any of them?"

"I did, and they seemed agreeable in supporting my takeover of EdML. They don't seem to approve of some of my uncle's business practices." Philippe's blue eyes became like ice chips. "Apparently, there are some unfinished issues that I must take care of."

Travis glanced sideways at him. "Careful, Philippe. You aren't formally installed yet, and there's still the problem of someone trying to kill us."

"We're working on that," Malcolm said, with a look at the MACOs and Hoshi. "I think we'll find a solution to that problem."

"Of course, that leaves me with the hardest part," Travis muttered. "I have to contact my Boomer friends and tell them about Guillem and Forrest's proposals. This is not gonna be fun. They're gonna hit the roof and go through it when this gets out."

"Want to trade places?" Philippe asked with a slight smile.

Travis thought for a moment, then sighed. "No, Philippe. Not a chance."


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Wish I did.**

**Notes: A chat with my sister about soap operas gave me an idea. Plus, Travis does a different kind of negotiation than the one in the last chapter. It doesn't come easier, though.**

**Captain Sandosh and the **_**Vhrum**_** crew and Captain Dhoaliu come from "Boomer Bust". "BB" also explains the deal with Travis and his brother Paul.**

**Please read and review! Thanks:)**

**Rating: T**

**R/S implied.**

**Six**

The hovercar swooped under a bridge and through a tunnel. It made a left-hand turn into the general area of the main Centaurian spaceport. Unlike the Montclaire's private airfield in Cochrane Commons, this one was jammed in the corner of the industrial sector. The bright colors became muted maroons and grays, and huge transports blocked the skyways. The little hovercar swerved around a ore transport, earning a loud honk for its trouble.

"Jesus, Lieutenant, you're enjoying this a little too much!" yelled McKenzie. She gripped the inside door handle with white knuckles. "They don't let you out enough, don't they!"

"Sorry, Fiona," Travis apologized and eased up on the accelerator. The hovercar straightened out and headed for the spaceport parking area. "It's been a while since I've piloted a 'car like this. I guess I got a little carried away."

McKenzie laughed, her long blonde hair streaming out in the wind behind her. She waggled her eyebrows and replied, "That's all right...you never know when you'd need to make a fast getaway. Helps to have a good pilot at the stick."

"Yeah." He flipped a credit chit at the parking attendant and pulled into the spot the young man indicated. "You sure you're up to this? You just got outta the hospital."

She flashed him a look of irritation. "I'm fine. Being in a hospital drives me crazy. There isn't anything to do except go watch trashy holoprograms on the tube, and Centaurian ones are the worst."

"'Three Gals and a Denobulan' isn't your speed, huh?" Travis laughed at her dirty look. "You sound just like Lieutenant Commander Reed whenever he's stuck in Sickbay. Although the Centaurian holoprograms are an idea—"

"You do that and I'll deny any involvement. I'll even tell the Commander it was your idea to begin with."

"Ouch. You're cruel." Travis waggled his eyebrows. "How about we go ahead and buy a subspace subscription for Hoshi and put it in his name as a gift for next Valentine's day? Think she'll appreciate it?"

McKenzie glared at him, then her eyes softened and she let out a peal of raucous laughter. Travis realized how carefree she looked when she relaxed her guard. "Oh, I forgot...you're the resident prankster on board the ship aren't you? Oh man, that's really cruel. Though I'd like to be a fly on the wall when Hoshi opens her gift."

"Yeah, me too." They left the 'car in the garage and boarded the transport tube to the spaceport's main section. Travis took off his cap and placed it backwards on his head, while McKenzie pulled her ponytail through the back of her cap. They both wore the overalls of cargo transport crew, with Travis also wearing his trusty captain's vest. The pair drew hushed whispers and looks of approval; he chuckled at the reactions of the passers-by. No one would suspect Starfleet's top consortium negotiator and his MACO bodyguard among the rougher edges of Centaurian society.

Of course, there was that little tangle with the Orions, but that hadn't really been their fault. Travis sighed as he remembered how their cover had been blown. _Damn Section 31 and Harris. I hope Malcolm chewed him out good and found out who leaked the info to the Orions. Though I bet Guillem also had something to do with that too._

An electronic board listed the most recent arrivals. He and McKenzie looked down the narrow columns of names until Travis found the ones he was looking for. "Over here, Fiona. Port Forty-Seven, Deck G."

"Let's go," she said.

The doors to Cargo Port Forty-Seven opened immediately as they approached. A Tellarite captain looked up from his manifest lists and grinned as he recognized Travis. "Captain Travis!" he shouted. "He's here!"

A minute later, Travis was swarmed by the crew of the _Vhrum. _He recognized Thor the Khorian, Rudis the Orion boy, and the swarthy form of Captain Sandosh. Sandosh swept Travis into a huge bear—porcine—hug, then set him back on his feet with an abrupt jolt. He saw McKenzie's hand on her phase pistol, but her hand dropped when he gave her a huge smile.

"Sorry, Fiona. Let me make the introductions. This is Captain Sandosh of the cargo transport _Vhrum_; his helmsman and communications officer Thor; and—"

"Steward and sometimes engineer, Rudis," Sandosh said. "We helped Captain Travis and his friends recently. And this young lady—"

"Fiona. She's one of Malcolm's security people," Travis said. "She's supposed to keep an eye on me."

"Then I wish you luck in your mission. He can be a challenge to keep track of." Sandosh chuckled, then waved his crew back to work. When the Tellarite turned back to Travis, his expression was a lot more sober. "I gathered as many freighter captains as I could find at such short notice. The ones who were agreeable to listening, at any rate. I cannot guarantee they will be enthusiastic to your news. Many of them believe the Cargo Transit Authority is selling them out to Starfleet and the Consortiums."

"I don't blame them, but we have to find some sort of compromise. If the Boomers don't make themselves heard, they'll be run over by the Powers that Be and I'm not gonna stand for that."

"They are gathered in Port Sixty-Eight, Travis. We will make sure none of them become too unruly." Sandosh gestured with his massive paw. "This way."

The tiny conference room in Port Sixty Eight was packed with familiar and unfamiliar faces. When Sandosh had apologized about the small turnout, he'd underestimated the number of interested parties. Travis greeted the Varlon captain, Dhoaliu; the Varlon remembered Travis from the bar on Auring Five. He also saw some of his father's old Boomer connections and they had brought friends.

"I see you still care about us after all, Big Brother. Knew you'd come back sometime."

Travis froze at the quiet voice near the back of the room. "Paul?"

"Yeah, I'm here." Paul Mayweather leaned back on the bench he was sitting on and crossed his arms. "Sandosh told us about this unofficial gathering and we'd just happened to be by. Quite the coincidence, eh. My new employer told me family's important, even if they aren't exactly on good terms."

Travis gave him a cautious nod. "So...Tanaka told you to attend?"

"She suggested it." Paul returned a wry smile, "but I came of my own free will. Heard this isn't really an 'official' negotiation. Bending the rules again, Big Brother?"

"Sometimes 'official' isn't the best way to do it. I'm sure this'll get back to Admiral Forrest somehow, but I'll listen to his ranting later." Travis sighed and shook his head. "Thanks, Paul. I wasn't sure you'd be here after, well—"

"I'm here, and I'll listen. Can't guarantee more than that, though."

Travis nodded; at least it was a start. "All right." He raised his voice and brought the room to order. "Thank you all for taking the time to come here. I'm sure you've all heard rumors about what's going on, but I'm here to set the record straight. All I'm asking is that you don't shoot me before you've heard everything I've got to say. All right?"

There were sounds of grudging agreement; Travis took that as a sign of cautious optimism. He took a deep breath and told them about the various proposals from Admiral Forrest. To their credit, the Boomers held their objections until he was finished. Not surprisingly, they weren't thrilled with what Travis was telling them.

"I don't like the sound of it. We're being forced to pick between the consortiums and Starfleet. Talk about between the devil and the bottomless sea," quipped Captain Ariael Sanjawani of the _Lakshmi_. "I'd rather stay a free agent, but it sounds like we'd be restricted in where we want to go."

"Yeah, security issues," spat Captain H'waaa of the _Xlavier_. "Security issues, my _reka_! If they were really that concerned about us, they'd have done a better job of patrolling space to begin with." There was a murmur of agreement.

"Admiral Forrest and the Vulcan High Command are reorganizing Cargo Operations to include a stronger Security force. That includes stepping up patrols and improving sensory capabilities." Travis added, his quiet voice still carried over the audience. "I don't know any details yet, but I'm planning on making that a high priority."

"We are not going be forced to run at the Consortiums' beck and call, are we?" asked Captain Dhoaliu. The Varlon looked sick to his stomach. "They cannot just draft us to do their bidding?"

"No, they have to compete for contracts just like everyone else. That includes Earth as well. And no, they can't just impress Boomer crews into their personal fleets. I'm not gonna let that happen." Travis scowled at the thought. "I'm gonna stand in front of the Starfleet Council if I have to, but they aren't gonna run roughshod over us."

"How reassuring, Mayweather," muttered Captain H'waaa.

Travis speared him with a glare. "I'm not gonna lie to you. I can only do so much. The Boomers are gonna have to make some compromises too, if this whole thing will work." He sighed. "All right, that's all I have for right now. If I hear anything else that could help the Boomers, I'll relay it to Captain Sandosh—"The Tellarite captain nodded in agreement, "—and he'll pass the word on. If you have any ideas, let him know and he'll let me know. All right?"

The meeting broke up on that note. Travis listened as the cargo captains grumbled under their breaths as they left. That wasn't a good sign. He sighed, rubbed his temples, and once again thought some choice words at Admiral Forrest and the mess they were all in.

"That went well, all things considered," McKenzie commented dryly.

"Yeah, right."

"I'm serious. No one tried to kill us."

"She's right," Paul added. Travis turned to face his brother. "You've always been honest, no matter what's going on at the time. I don't think they have any reason to doubt you." Again, that neutral tone, as if Paul was just discussing the weather. The words didn't reassure Travis as much as he wished.

"Thanks, Paul. Will you tell Mom about this? I'm gonna be stuck in more negotiations for God knows how long and I don't know when I'll be able to get in touch with you."

"Sure thing, Big Brother." Paul got up from the bench and stretched. "Mom's in a comfortable house on Vega, courtesy of Tanaka Enterprises. Maybe they'll let you go long enough to pay her a visit. I'm sure Tanaka would like to meet you...she has to be better than Montclaire."

"I dunno. I think I'll reserve judgment till I actually meet her," Travis replied. "I think Malcolm's paranoia's rubbed off in me in a major way the past few months."

Paul nodded. "Well, see ya around. Take care of yourself."

"You too." Travis watched his brother leave. Paul hadn't even told him how his new captaincy was going, whether or not he liked working for Tanaka Enterprises, or even about his new ship and crew. _Raven's Revenge_, Travis remembered, and he winced. The closeness between the two had dissolved, and it hurt. Hurt far worse than he was willing to admit.

At least Paul was talking with him. That was better than absolutely nothing.

"You all right, Travis?"

He nodded at McKenzie's question. "C'mon, Fiona. Let's get back to Bellevue. I wanna talk with Philippe about EdML.The sooner he makes his decision, the better."

"You sound like you might already know what he'll do." McKenzie's expression was unreadable, but her eyes betrayed her worry.

"Yeah. I think I know what he'll do." With that, he nodded and they strode out of the cargo bay back towards the main section of the spaceport.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Wish I did.**

**Notes: Philippe makes his decision and they get closer to the truth behind his parents' deaths.**

**Rating: T**

**Seven**

Philippe acted stiff and formal around Travis during three days of intense talks with EdML's executive board. Outside the negotiation room, he all but disappeared. Travis finally lost patience and decided to corner him in the formal dining room during the two-hour long lunch break. When he walked into the formal dining room, he found Philippe deep in conversation with Malcolm. They'd been spending a good amount of time in each other's company lately. Travis knew they were looking into the investigation of Rene and Sandrine's suspicious deaths. To his surprise, Philippe seemed relaxed, even laughing at one of Malcolm's wry remarks. They talked in rapid-fire French, so Travis was completely lost.

"Travis," Philippe said. "Come join us."

"You sure I'm not interrupting anything?" Travis asked as he sat next to Philippe. He tried to suppress a stab of jealousy; Philippe seemed to get along so much better with Malcolm, even though Travis was in this mess partially for his benefit. Granted, Malcolm had so much more in common with him, but still...

His thoughts must have been plain on his face because Philippe's expression sobered considerably. "I owe you an apology, Travis. I don't want you to think I'm ungrateful for what you've sacrificed for me—"

"I don't think you're ungrateful—"

Philippe plowed on as if Travis hadn't interrupted him. "—but I don't want to influence your negotiations in any way. You're supposed to be impartial to the situation—"

"I'm hardly the most impartial person, Philippe. I just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time—"

Malcolm sighed and gave Travis a sideways look. "Bloody hell, man, let the boy finish."

Travis blushed and apologized, "Sorry."

"That's okay. I know you really need to know whether or not I'm going to take over EdML." Philippe sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. Then he opened them and gazed at Travis again. "I've thought about it, and I think it's in everyone's best interest if I do. My uncle's alienated most of the other consortiums, as well as Starfleet and the members of his own executive board. They're ready to push him out with a no-confidence vote. If I don't take over, an outsider will do it. I can't allow that to happen."

"Damn. Are you sure this is what you want to do?"

Philippe's short bark of laughter sounded bitter. "Do I want to? I'm not sure. Do I have to? Who else will salvage anything from this mess if I back out now? Someone has to keep the balance in the consortiums, against Tanaka and the others. And that someone also needs to keep the Boomers in mind. I don't care what Admiral Forrest says; the Boomers are important to the economy and damned if I alienate them as well. At the very least—" he managed a smile, "—I have the mindset to be EdML's leader, since I've grown up with it."

Malcolm's eyes were sad and sympathetic. "I don't envy your mission, lad. Remember, though, you have our support, no matter what you decide to do."

"From all of us," Travis added and put a hand on Philippe's shoulder. "Have you already told your uncle?'

"Yes, I have. He wasn't exactly happy, but he said he understood. He plans on doing the formal investiture Thursday night, inviting as many people as possible. I believe some of the other consortiums will send representatives, as well as Admiral Forrest."

Travis glanced at Malcolm. The armory officer smirked, but the usual humor fell flat. "This is gonna be a security and logistical nightmare. Thursday night's only two nights from now."

"I've already talked with Captain Archer and he agrees we're going to tighten security. The Centaurian Security Force has offered their people to help. I don't trust Guillem's marshals to keep a bloody flea safe, much less either one of you." Malcolm's tone was abrupt, a sure sign of his irritation at the marshals. "I'm doubling the guards on you, Philippe and Guillem. No leaving the estate without checking with me first and double-check if someone comes up and said I sent him or her to you."

Travis sighed, but Malcolm's paranoia had saved them all more than once, and he wasn't about to argue with him now. "All right. I won't do something stupid. Scout's honor."

The words brought a hint of a smile to his face. "Are there scouts among the Boomers?"

"There aren't, but there should be." He glanced at Philippe. "Okay with you?"

"_Oui, Commandant." _Philippe looked resigned, but he gave Malcolm a brisk nod. Suddenly, his face brightened and he said, "That reminds me of what we were discussing before you arrived, Travis. We were analyzing the chess game we played last night."

"Oh really?" Travis knew the two played chess almost every night since their arrival on Centauri. It became quite the rivalry. "Who won?"

"I did."

"You beat Malcolm?" Travis asked, with a bemused look at the armory officer. "You finally managed to outsmart the ship's chess champion?"

"I've been giving him advice on how to improve his game," Malcolm said with a shrug. "He's a quick learner, this one."

Philippe chuckled and pushed his empty plate aside. "I've had a good teacher. Here, Travis, take a look at this step-by-step breakdown. I think you'll find it interesting."

He grunted as he accepted the PADD that Philippe handed him. His eyes passed over the information on the screen: _Security Logs compromised and altered from May 15, 2155 to July 17, 2155. Analysis by Centauri Security Force points to a third party as possible accomplices. Evidence gathered by EdML's security force deliberately tainted or "lost". Collusion probable at highest levels of consortium leadership._

"Huh," Travis grunted. "Looks like you two have been taking this rivalry pretty seriously. Not surprising, though...a little healthy competition's good as long as it doesn't get out of hand. Could get pretty ugly."

"We'll keep it civil, Travis," Philippe said, nodding at the unspoken warning. "You interested in the full explanation?"

"Sure, I'll be willing to listen, if you've got the time."

So Philippe and Malcolm took turns explaining the "strategy" behind their latest game. Basically, Philippe had sacrifice many of his lesser pieces so that his knights and bishops were able to capture Malcolm's queen, then surround his king for a checkmate. Philippe had used a knight, a rook and his own queen to do the damage.

_A Knight is supposed to protect the king. So that has to be someone in the security force. A rook, an underestimated, but powerful piece, someone who seems weak but isn't, and the queen...a female suspect who has a lot of power. Tanaka, maybe? _Travis was a decent chess player and played enough matches against Malcolm to have an idea of the tactical officer's thought processes.

"The queen is the most powerful piece on the board, so taking out the queen really hurts your chances of winning," he commented. "And you use the rook to 'castle' and protect your king."

"Precisely," Malcolm said as he tapped his finger on the side of the PADD. "Players tend to underestimate the rook's power, since it can only go horizontally and vertically in either direction. It was this that enabled Philippe to eventually checkmate me."

"Uhm. You planning for a rematch? Use what you've learned?"

"Of course. I won't let my guard down again," Malcolm replied in a quiet tone. He shot a glance at Philippe, then brought his gaze back at Travis."Believe me, I'll do a better job of protecting the king."


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Wish I did.**

**Notes: Things get really complicated. Travis finds some answers...but will he survive long enough to tell anyone?**

**And a couple of unexpected appearances. PS: Since canon has never formally established what Stuart Reed actually did in the Royal Navy, I've decided to take dramatic license.**

**Rating: T**

**R/S implied. And what's up with Malcolm and Hoshi, esp. since Malcolm had insisted to Guillem Montclaire that she wasn't his fiancee earlier? You'll find out later.**

**Eight**

Guillem Montclaire hired the most exclusive decorators, caterers and support staff that Centauri had to offer. They descended onto Bellevue's grounds like hawks and proceeded to transform the grounds into a grand Parisian palace. The rest of the _Enterprise_ crew joined Travis, Malcolm and Hoshi in the preparations. Sub-Commander T'Pol and the Centaurian Security Force checked references and organized area security. Trip Tucker designed security checkpoints and routed extra generators to power the various "additions" that Guillem planned for the event.

Captain Archer joined Travis and Hoshi in welcoming the other consortium dignitaries as they arrived on Centauri for Philippe's induction ceremony. Travis was glad of Archer's assistance; most of the visitors were familiar with Archer's formidable reputation as a _Enterprise_'s captain. Yet Archer always deferred to Travis's leadership, which seemed odd, but felt right. For his part, Travis watched Hoshi and followed her lead. She was gracious but firm in her dealings with the various consortium representatives, and again, Travis felt a bit of jealousy at Malcolm's good fortune.

"Monsieur Travis, may I have a moment of your time?"

Travis looked over his shoulder at Monsieur Giuseppe Vernet. The oldest member of EdML's executive board stood in the doorway, his elegant cane in his trembling hand. Vernet's face was as pale as paste, and the hunter-green robes didn't hide his fraility or his slight figure, but his eyes belied his weakness. Travis sketched a bow to him.

"Of course, Monsieur Vernet. Let me tell Captain Archer I'm with you, then I can give you my undivided attention." Travis caught Archer's eye, and the Captain excused himself from a chat with Procyon Limited's representative. Lieutenant Mueller, Malcolm's Armory second-in-command, waved at his partner as he shadowed Archer. On the other side of the room, Fiona McKenzie and Nate Kemper drew closer to Travis.

"I'm going to talk with Monsieur Vernet, Captain," Travis told him. "I'll try not to be too long."

"The representative from Nanjandi Group's due to come in an hour, Travis, and Ravi Nanjandi refuses to talk to anyone but you," Archer reminded him with a wry smile.

"Yeah, I know." Travis winced at the thought. Nanjandi was twice as worse as Guillem Montclaire in social niceties. "Sometimes being in the spotlight can be a pain."

"It can be, but you get used it after a while," Archer said with a smile of sympathy. "Think of this as command officer's training."

He chuckled. "How to be a Starship Captain without Losing Your Sanity. Maybe they can start teaching it at the Academy." At Archer's grin, Travis found himself mirroring the grin. "I'll be back, Captain."

Vernet gestured Travis to an empty side alcove. The older man sat on the padded bench with a relieved sigh and tapped the place next to him with his cane. Travis sat, with Fiona on one side of him and Nate hovering near the door. Vernet gave the MACOs a look of strained tolerance.

"Must these soldiers be here? They make me nervous."

"Sorry, Monsieur, orders from Lieutenant Commander Reed," Travis replied without a hint of apology.

"Ah, the good _Commandant_ cares for all our welfare, does he not." Vernet sighed and leaned closer to Travis. "So that is why he accessed private information regarding Monsieur Trieste and Madame Sandrine. The _Commandant _wishes to know who killed them."

Travis raised his eyebrows. He noticed that Vernet had referred to Philippe's mother by name. "The Centaurian Security Force is still investigating what happened to Rene and Sandrine. If they find out who killed them, then we can catch them before he or she strikes again. We can keep Philippe safe."

"Who's to say that they died due to foul play and not simply by accident? I think that's extremely paranoid, even for the illustrious _Commandant._ He's a dangerous influence on young Philippe, Monsieur Travis, and it has me concerned."

"You think Commander Reed's a bad influence?"

"I think the _Commandant_ is allowing his own personal history to cloud his judgment concerning Philippe."

"How so?"

Vernet's smile was grim and he tapped his cane against the side of bench in a "don't think I'm stupid, young man" gesture. The abrupt movement made Fiona put her hand on her weapon; Vernet shook his head at her in gentle rebuke. "_Commandant_ Reed has similar issues with his own father, the Admiral, does he not? I do know that he was supposed to join the Navy, but decided not to, against his father's wishes. And such a man positions himself close to Philippe? It is disturbing to me, to say the least."

Travis caught Fiona's tight-lipped grimace. He didn't have to turn around to see Nate's reaction. From what Nate had told him, Hayes's MACOs were just as protective about Malcolm. Hearing this from Vernet amounted to a royal insult, as if the man had slandered Major Hayes. It was not a good way to endear Fiona and Nate, but Vernet didn't seem to care.

"Commander Reed has worked hard to gain his rank and his position as Armory and Tactical Officer, Monsieur Vernet. He is the most professional officer I've seen, and I know he will not let personal feelings influence the performance of his duty." Travis's tone was quiet, but forceful. "In any case, Philippe has decided to take up the reins of EdML. I think Philippe would've made that decision even if the Commander would've wished otherwise."

Vernet said nothing for a moment, then the old man bowed his head in respect. "You are a true friend, Monsieur Travis. I understand why Philippe treasures your advice and why _Commandant_ Reed chooses to be on your staff, despite the disparity in your ranks. Forgive my impertinence, but I had to make sure. The Executive Board has become a bunch of doddering old idiots under Guillem Montclaire. I do not believe for a second that you or the _Commandant_ mean EdML any harm."

His words made Travis chuckle. If _Vernet_ referred to the Executive Board as "doddering old idiots", then that said something about his attitude. "It's nice to know you have confidence in our abilities to help Philippe."

"Yes, you have more than exceeded our expectations, Monsieur Travis. Madame Tanaka told us about your brother and how he is doing well in her consortium. Family means everything to us."

Those words reminded Travis about his conversation with Sumiko Tanaka. She was talking to EdML's Board without Philippe's knowledge? Did she know about Malcolm's family history and tell Vernet, or did Vernet just do the research on his own?

Suddenly, a cold chill went down his spine. _Players tend to underestimate the rook's power...an underestimated but powerful piece, someone who seems weak, but isn't._ _You use the rook to 'castle' and protect the king..._

Travis's communicator went off, startling him. With cobra-like reflexes, Vernet whipped his cane around and hit Travis on the side of the head. Then he raised his cane and silent flashes erupted from its end. _A weapon, _Travis thought muzzily. _He's been carrying a weapon all this time...My God, _Vernet _is the _rook, Tanaka _is the queen. Then who's the knight?_

The last thing Travis heard was Vernet's soft voice in his ear. "Checkmate, Monsieur Travis. You lose."

* * *

Travis woke with a headache the size of Mount Olympus. He found that he couldn't open his eyes, so he kept them closed. A slight thrum echoed through the walls and the cot he was lying it. A ship? A space station? Where was he? Where were Nate and Fiona? How could Vernet have gotten the drop on him and two trained MACOs? _You underestimated him. That was how he was able to get into Rene and Sandrine's confidence. _Now Philippe was in danger... 

"Wake up, man! Bloody hell, man! Wake up!"

_What? That isn't Malcolm..._

"Be easy on him, Stuart. They've stunned him pretty good. Who would've known an eighty-three year old man could've done it?"

Stuart snorted. "My own grandfather was still able to kick my arse was he was ninety-five, Maximilian. That's no excuse. And this is what my son has to deal with? God help us all."

"Stuart." There was a note of warning in Maximilian's voice. "That's enough or I'll sic your future daughter-in-law on you."

"Oh, anything but that," Stuart said sarcastically, but Travis heard a hint of dry humor underneath. "Anything but that. I'm terrified."

"You should be. If I remember, she's qualified to take the Armory Officer's exam, thanks to your son." Then Travis felt a more gentle hand on his shoulder. 'C'mon, Travis. That's a good man, open your eyes."

Travis finally was able to open his eyes without being nauseous. His vision swam for a moment, then cleared to reveal the worried face of Admiral Forrest. He stared at Forrest with his mouth open. "ADMIRAL FORREST? What're you doing here? What happened?" He took a deep breath to stop his rambling. "Giuseppe Vernet's the mole in the Executive Board. He's in Sumiko Tanaka's employment. Philippe's in danger..."

Forrest nodded. "We know. Vernet wants both Philippe and Guillem dead. The Orions intercepted us on our way to Alpha Centauri and took us prisoner. I'm sure by now Jon and Malcolm have heard about our little 'accident'." His face creased into a scowl. "Without you at the investiture, the negotiations will fall apart."

"We've got to get out of here."

"Already working on it, lad," said the British-accented voice. Travis craned his neck to see the heavy-set man crouched at an open panel next to a hatch, with his back to Travis. The sleeves of his formal uniform were rolled to his elbows and he held a plasma torch in his right hand. Travis saw that even the _plasma torch _had been jury-rigged out of various spare parts. "These particular Orions haven't done a good job of changing their security protocols, the bloody sods."

"You're in security, sir?" Travis asked, though he had a good idea who the man was.

The older officer turned around, his gray eyes twinkling in the stern expression, and Travis immediately saw from whom Malcolm had inherited his features. "Lieutenant Mayweather. I am Admiral Stuart Reed, head of Her Majesty's Defense Ministry. I'm pleased to finally meet you. My son Malcolm has told me some things about you."


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Wish I did.**

**Notes: Surprise! Bonus chapter!**

**I figured that both Stuart Reed and Maximilian Forrest must have been just as adventurous in their youth and that they knew each other. I assumed that Forrest would have had some pilot training (from "First Flight") and that Reed would have had more in common with his son than was obvious. Also, I assumed that both men would be tougher than the series made them out to be.**

**Travis also gets to play hero, as well.**

**Rating: T**

**Nine**

Travis held a flashlight directly over Admiral Reed's shoulder as Reed continued with the reroute of the security circuits. Forrest used the time to get into the computer systems, using Reed's overrides. It was strange seeing both men working side by side, but Travis suspected this wasn't the first time. He tried to reconcile what Malcolm had told him about his father with what he was seeing, and it didn't match up.

"I take it you have doubts about me, Lieutenant."

Travis blinked at the curt observation. "Not exactly 'doubts', sir. I just don't understand a few things."

"Such as?"

"Well, for starters, I thought you were supposed to be retired and living in Kota Bharu."

Reed smirked and said, "I was, but being retired does not preclude my participation in certain operations. When Forrest asked me to accompany him, I could hardly refuse."

The other admiral snorted in derision. "It's not like you couldn't have refused, Stuart. You wanted an opportunity to kick Guillem Montclaire in the head for messing up your stock options."

Travis sighed and rolled his eyes. "Not you too, sir."

"I must admit the idea held some appeal." Reed chuckled as he completed another bypass. "His father was a blithering fool as far as how he treated his son. As much a fool as people believe I was with mine."

_That's calling the kettle black, isn't it—wait a minute. _"As people believe"? _That meant that the conflict between Malcolm and his father was pure fiction? That can't be right...I've seen Malcolm when he talks about his dad and you can't fake pain like that. _Travis kept himself under tight rein. He had heard about Stuart Reed's explosive temper and didn't want to provoke it now. Either the older man was rewriting history, or there was something there that Travis didn't completely understand.

"A little to the right, Lieutenant. I'm almost done here."

"Were you an engineer, sir?" Travis asked. He decided to stick to a safe subject for now.

"Earlier in my career, I had a commanding officer who insisted that we gain secondary training in another discipline. I hadn't seen the benefit until much later. I also insisted that Malcolm do the same." Reed's voice became dry again. "And I hear that it vexes Commander Tucker to no end."

Despite himself, Travis laughed. "'Vexes' is an understatement, Admiral."

"And Malcolm has nothing but praise for you, Lieutenant. I admit that I had my own doubts when Forrest assigned you as negotiator, but I have been pleasantly surprised."

"Glad to hear that," Travis said, his tone just as dry. "So far I've felt like I've only succeeded in stumbling into dangerous situations."

Reed straightened and reached for the panel cover. Travis took a step back at the unexpected movement. The admiral carefully replaced the panel, then got to his feet and turned to face Travis. Reed had a carefully contained look on his face, but those expressive gray eyes blazed in righteous anger. Travis suddenly knew how it felt to be under Stuart Reed's scrutiny and understood how a man nearly a half a foot shorter than himself could be so intimidating.

"You underestimate yourself, Lieutenant. I'll not hear such words from your mouth, am I clear? You have a gift with people; use it to the full potential. My son has the utmost confidence in you, and if he's anything like me, he doesn't take that faith lightly." The clipped accent made every word a sharp blow. "Do not fail in your mission, do you understand?"

Travis swallowed hard; leave it to Malcolm's dad to snap him out of self-pity. "Yes, sir."

"That's a good man." Reed clapped Travis on the shoulder, then turned to Forrest. "Are you finished with getting the information we need?"

"Just about," Forrest replied. "We have a problem, though."

"What sort of problem?"

"From what I've seen so far, all of the connections directly link Montclaire to the conspiracy, but there isn't a single mention of Tanaka. She's a sneaky one. I think we won't be able to nail her with anything with what we have now."

"That just means we'll have to deal with her later, then." Reed smirked at the future opportunity. "Let's join the party, gentlemen. Lieutenant, how are you at hand-to-hand combat?"

Travis blinked at the question, but he answered, "Fairly decent, sir. Your son's made sure I can hold my own against him."

"Good. I may have to depend on your defensive skills." Reed said with a nod at Forrest. "Shall we show the young man what we can do, Maximilian?"

"Ready whenever you are." Forrest popped a chip out of the computer slot and stuffed it in the breast pocket of his uniform. "Do your worst, Stuart."

"You've never seen my worst, Maximilian." Reed crossed to the door and stopped by the control panel. He looked at the jury-rigged plasma torch at his hand and an evil smile passed over his face. He yanked a few stray wires and used them to attach the torch to the panel. "Take cover, gentlemen. We're kicking the door down."

They all dove for cover. A split second later, the panel erupted in a mighty roar. Smoke and sparks flooded the room. Travis coughed and waved smoke out of his face as he pushed himself out of his crouch. A burly Orion materialized out of the chaos; Travis didn't hesitate as he tackled the man. The Orion screamed obscenities in his ear as Travis wrestled the phase rifle out of his hands and knocked him out with it. Travis checked the charge, then looked around for both admirals. Forrest was already moving, checking the corridor ahead while Reed had disarmed another Orion and claimed another rifle.

Alarms echoed through the corridor. Travis exchanged a salute with Reed. "Move out, Lieutenant!" Travis chuckled at the familiar intensity in battle and followed orders.

_

* * *

This is crazy_, he thought as they plowed their way through another corridor. Here he was, with two older admirals, fighting their way through the decks of an enemy ship. His estimation of both Forrest and Reed went up considerably. Both men were considerably fit for admirals who were supposed to be desk jockeys, but while Forrest seemed to be tiring, Reed was energized by the action. Again, Travis was reminded how similar father and son were to each other. 

He wondered just how long Reed could hold out on adrenalin alone. He could easily see how formidable Stuart Reed was in his younger days and how Maximilian Forrest must have been a hell-raiser himself. No wonder Jonathan Archer and he were such good friends.

"Where now, sir?" Travis gasped and wiped sweat from his forehead.

"Shuttle bay, five hundred meters that way," Reed said, gesturing to their right. But they might as well as been fifty thousand meters away, for the Orions had concentrated their defense in that corridor leading to the bay. All they had to do was the hold out long enough for reinforcements to arrive. These Orions were more battle-savvy than the ones that Travis had encountered on the _Ragnarok_; they had more to lose this time.

And Travis had less firepower on his side.

He glanced at Reed, who had flipped the cover off the power pack of his rifle and was making adjustments. "Get ready to run when I give the mark, lads. Ready?"

"Ready," Forrest said hoarsely. The admiral's face was gray, and Reed himself looked a bit peaked. Travis moved to a position to cover both men, for he would have the only functional rifle after Reed's maneuver.

The modified rifle sailed through the air, detonating in the center of the defenders. The concussion rocked the deck, knocking everyone off their feet. Forrest tried to get up and Travis grabbed him under the arm and dragged the admiral forward.

"Leave me behind, Lieutenant," Forrest gasped. "That's an order."

Travis swatted an Orion out of the way with his rifle; he used that as an excuse not to "hear" Forrest's order. They reached the shuttle bay door and stumbled just inside the doorway. A shuttlepod sat on its pad. "Admiral, head for that pod. You've got the information. I'm going back for Admiral Reed."

"What?" Forrest burst out, but Travis was already heading back into the corridor.

An Orion had pinned Reed to the wall and was about to give the admiral the killing blow when Travis roared and swung his rifle at the Orion, catching the Orion square in the back. Travis grabbed Reed and dragged him into the shuttle bay. Forrest had already gotten the shuttle engines warmed and rotated the pad so the shuttle was pointing out of the bay. Travis literally stuffed Reed into the shuttlepod and leaped in after him.

"Hang on!" Forrest yelled and hit the accelerator without even bothering to wait for the bay to depressurize. The shuttlepad shot out into open space, leaving debris from the Orion ship in its wake. And like the test pilot he had been, Forrest banked to the left hard and reversed orientation, heading back towards Alpha Centauri.

"How is he?" Forrest shouted over his shoulder.

"Not good," Travis hollered back, "but if we can find an emergency medkit, he might have a chance."

"Come up here and take the helm, Travis. I'll look after Stuart." Travis quickly made his way to the pilot's chair as Forrest moved aft. He glanced down at the navigational computer and his heart leaped into his throat. They were a good five or six hours away.

"I guess we'll see how good the latest Orion engine specs are," he muttered as he diverted everything he could into the engines. Still, it was going to be a close one.


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Wish I did.**

**Notes: Things are coming to a head pretty quickly at this point. Travis and Philippe still have some aces up their sleeves...and yeah, I'm doing a lot of updates on this while the ball is rolling...:)**

**Thanks for all the reviews! Keep 'em coming!**

**Slight Spoiler for "Shuttlepod One"**

**R/S pairing**

**Rating: T**

**Ten**

Most shuttlepods, whether it was Starfleet, Orion or Boomer issue, had a maximum speed of Warp 2, if they had warp at all. The Orions managed to squeeze more out of their engines, pushing it to Warp 2.3 if needed. Of course, it wasn't recommended unless it was a dire emergency.

The Orion shuttlepod had been red-lining at Warp 2.8 for nearly two and a half hours.

"Approaching the outer system boundary," announced Travis. He shivered violently, for they'd cut back on the environmental systems to give extra power to the engines. Now he knew how Malcolm and Trip must have felt when they'd been stuck on Shuttlepod One and nearly died. Travis would've had nightmares after the incident; he wondered how Malcolm and Trip had coped with it.

"Go ahead and bump up the temperature, Travis," Forrest ordered. His breath fogged up into mist as he talked. "And get a scan of the system. Stuart, can you monitor communications? We need to get in touch with Archer."

"Help me up, then," Reed snapped. He huddled under a couple of blankets. "I'll not be talking to Archer with my arse on the floor."

Travis chuckled as Forrest hauled Reed to his feet and deposited him at one of the consoles. Reed sighed in relief as the temperature in the cabin began to rise. Travis flexed his frozen fingers and wiped yet another layer of frost off the console. He heard Reed hide a cough and his worry about Stuart grew as the Englishman wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

_I can see where Malcolm gets his stubbornness from,_ Travis reflected. _And it's a miracle he and his dad are still around, as much as they try to avoid Sickbay. _He knew better than to ask Reed if he was feeling all right. The admiral was already testy after several similar questions from Forrest. Forrest had used almost every available hypospray in the medkit to keep Reed awake and alert.

Forrest himself manned the science station. The system scan appeared on a secondary screen. Several ships were in orbit around Alpha Centauri, as well as MedLab One. Travis swallowed hard as he understood how many people were at Philippe's investiture.

"_Enterprise_ to unknown shuttle. Identify yourself or you will be fired upon." Travis's heart lightened at the sound of Trip Tucker's voice, but immediately plummeted at the exhaustion in the chief engineer's voice. The steel was there and Travis had no doubt Trip would blow them out of the sky if he thought the Orion shuttle was a threat.

Stuart Reed slammed his hand on the comm panel and roared, "Hold your fire, Commander Tucker! We're returning Lieutenant Mayweather to Centauri and I'm sure your captain wouldn't want our atoms spread all over space. Am I correct?"

There was a heavy pause, then Trip asked, "Admiral Reed? They told us you were kidnapped—"

"Commander, I need you to do me a favor," Travis interrupted.

"Anything, Travis. We've got some cranky consortium reps down there and I'm not sure how much longer Philippe and the Cap'n can stall 'em."

"Here's what I want you to do..."

* * *

Travis slowed his speed as he entered Centauri's atmosphere and brought the shuttlepod around in a wide arc. "Admiral, we're on approach to Cochrane Commons landing strip."

"They have us on scanners?"

"Scanners, cameras and every recording device," Reed replied with a self-satisfied smirk. He hid a cough and carefully sat up straighter in his chair. "Every eye's on us, gentlemen."

The comm channel came to life. "Shuttlepod _Raven_, you are cleared to land on Pad Five. Welcome to Centauri, Admirals, and welcome back, Lieutenant."

At Forrest's nod, Reed opened their end of the channel. "Thank you for the warm welcome, Control," Forrest replied. "We'll be there momentarily."

Travis landed the shuttle without a bump. He sighed and patted the console. The smell of electrical burning made him sigh again. The engines would need a complete overhaul after this little escapade. _Maybe I can convince 'em to let me keep this..._

"All right, let's get this over with," Forrest said. "Stuart, you're sure you're up to this?"

"I'll be fine."

"Where does that sound familiar?" Travis mumbled under his breath. He winced and hoped Reed hadn't heard that remark. Unfortunately, he had no such luck.

"What was that, Lieutenant?"

"Nothing, sir. Just reminding myself not to trip on the red carpet."

"That would be embarrassing, wouldn't it. Make sure you don't."

"Yes, sir." Travis squared his shoulders and approached the hatch. "After you, Admirals."

Forrest shook his head. "After you, Lieutenant. You're the negotiator. Admiral Reed?"

"Sir." Reed took up position behind and to the left of Travis, while Forrest positioned himself behind and to the right. Travis couldn't retreat and the only way to go was forward. He stifled a groan as he cycled the hatch open and stepped out.

To his credit, Guillem Montclaire had assembled an amazing reception at such short notice. A brass band played Starfleet's "To the Stars" and "Rule Britannia" in rapid succession as Travis led the way. Midway, they were met by Philippe, Captain Archer, Lieutenant Sato, Lieutenant Commander Malcolm Reed and Guillem Montclaire. To Travis's relief, both Nate Kemper and Fiona McKenzie were in the welcome party.

Fiona's face was set in a hard expression, but her eyes betrayed her relief at Travis's safe return. He read determination in the MACO's eyes, as well as a fierce promise not to abandon Travis in the face of danger again. He wanted to tell her that it hadn't been her fault, but he doubted Fiona would see it that way.

Guillem's face was set in a hard mask, though the blue eyes were as cold as ice. It took all of Travis's self-control not to react as Guillem spouted words of welcome. He noticed that Malcolm stood between Guillem and Philippe, while Hoshi stood between Guillem and Archer. None of them looked at Guillem.

"Admiral Forrest, Admiral Reed," Captain Archer said with a sharp salute. "Welcome to Alpha Centauri, sirs."

"We heard that you've been quite busy, Captain, assisting with the negotiations," Forrest said mildly. "Now that Lieutenant Mayweather has returned, I'm sure the consortium representatives will be relieved that the installation will go as planned."

"Yes," Archer agreed with a sage nod. "Welcome back, Lieutenant. I'm glad you're safe and sound."

"Thank you, Captain." He smiled at Archer, then turned his attention to Philippe. Philippe didn't bother to hide his relief as he extended a hand to Travis, who shook it. Applause broke out over the airstrip at the gesture of goodwill and friendship.

Over his shoulder, Travis spotted Admiral Reed exchanging quiet words with Malcolm. The younger Reed held himself stiffly in his father's presence. To Travis's utter shock, Stuart took Hoshi's offered hand and bowed his head over it, like a proper gentleman. Hoshi didn't seem intimidated by the admiral's presence.

Quickly, the landing party crossed the tarmac and into a hovercar. Travis gestured for the driver to move out of the pilot's seat. A look of surprise crossed the man's face, but he did as Travis asked. Travis himself took the wheel, with Philippe next to him and the MACO and Armory guards close behind.

"Travis, are you all right?" Philippe burst out as soon as they were on their way.

"Yeah, I'm exhausted, but in one piece," Travis admitted. "Giuseppe Vernet—"

"He was the rook," Philippe confirmed, his voice harsh and angry. "Vernet had his cane modified to hide a laser gun. The MACOs were as surprised as we were, but McKenzie nailed Vernet just after the Orions swept you away in a transporter beam. Vernet's heart couldn't take the strain; he was gone before we could question him."

"He sacrificed himself," Travis muttered. "Tanaka's the queen, but we have no proof. We'll have to get it some other way, and we still have to find that knight."

"Malcolm and I narrowed it down to someone in the security force."

"That's still a lot of people, Philippe."

"Not as many as you think. There were only five who had the opportunity. The Centaurian Security Force detained them for questioning. That doesn't mean we're safe, by any means." Philippe rubbed a hand over his tired eyes. "My uncle wants to have the installation as soon as possible."

"What's he planning to do after the installation?"

"He mentioned something about taking a vacation. Malcolm's got it arranged so that he won't escape." Philippe sighed and shook his head. "My uncle is responsible for my parents' deaths, but until I'm installed, he's still the head of EdML."

"So they'll try to prevent your installation any way they can. Admiral Forrest, Admiral Reed and I have a plan—"

"I understand Admiral Reed is actually Malcolm's father?"

"Yeah, that's right, and both he and Admiral Forrest are more wily than we expect." Travis grinned and added, "Now, here's what we're gonna do..."

* * *

The Gardens was the only place on the grounds with enough space to accommodate all the representatives, Starfleet personnel and security teams. This time, the perimeter was ringed with Centauri Security Force patrolmen, MACOs and Malcolm's Armory personnel. More plainclothes CSF men and women mingled with the guests. Travis and Philippe circulated around the representatives, being careful not to be separated from each other. Travis accepted the accolades from the consortium leaders, but kept an eagle eye.

He was more exhausted than he realized. At one point, he'd asked Hoshi to fetch a hypospray from Phlox. The Denobulan warned him about becoming dependent on stimulants, but Travis reassured him that he wasn't planning on making it a habit. Even now, Phlox was at Admiral Reed's side as the admirals sat nearby at a long table.

"You must come to Aldeberan," said Ravi Nandjani. "My consortium is willing to open trade negotiations with your new Starfleet Trading Authority. Perhaps we can ship a few cases of Andorian ale as a gesture of goodwill."

Travis laughed at the hopeful look on Nandjani's face and replied, "I had no idea that Andorian ale has become such a hot commodity. I'm sure the Andorians are pleased that their alcohol has had a good reception—"

"Unlike some consortiums, I believe that non-human commodities have as much potential in the trading circles." Nandjani said with a grin. "I look forward to your visit, Lieutenant."

"Likewise." As Nandjani wandered off, Travis reached for a champagne glass to wash the bad taste out of his mouth. He saw the Philippe had the same idea; the young man was already on his third glass.

"Easy on the liquor, Philippe."

"I'm not planning on getting myself drunk, Travis," Philippe assured him.

Movement caught Travis's eye. He saw Captain Sandosh nearby and the Tellarite gave him a nod. The Boomers formed a protective ring around Travis, Philippe, and the admirals. Sandosh inclined his head to his left. Travis followed the Boomer captain's gaze and froze at the sight of the man standing about fifty meters away from the admirals' table.

_Paul. Paul's here. __What's he doing here?_ Travis noticed that Paul Mayweather wasn't looking in his direction; instead, his brother was talking with Malcolm and Hoshi. The Armory Officer had a concerned look on his face and Hoshi reached over to put a hand on Paul's shoulder.

A set of chimes rang over the audience. Philippe pressed his lips together and said, "We have to take our places, Travis. It's time."


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Wish I did.**

**Notes: Philippe's supposed to formally take over EdML, but of course, things don't go the way they're supposed to. **

**Rating: T**

**Eleven**

Although most colonists could trace their roots back to Earth, they decidedly were NOT from Earth. Travis had to remind himself of that fact as the consortium reps took their time taking their seats and the Boomers held themselves apart from everyone else. Not that Travis could blame them, especially with this current feud between the Boomers and the consortiums. Both avoided the Starfleet personnel and the MACOs as much as possible. He spotted Corporal Romero with Corporal Money as he talked with the consortium representative of Altair. Whatever was said disturbed Romero to the point where the MACO looked ready to deck the representative, orders be damned. Money drew Romero to the side and said something to him that caused a sad smile to flash across his face.

"You okay, Alejandro?" Travis asked him. "What did he say to you that made you so mad?"

"He has a lot of nerve," Romero said, his tone soft and dangerous. "First, he said that Altair was 'proud of of their native son' and that they would be willing to drop the sedition charges against my family because of my 'faithful service' to you and Philippe Trieste. Then he said that perhaps I could possibly be hired as a private security coordinator for their consortium."

"You considering that offer?" Travis asked. His skin crawled at the slimyness of the Altarian consortium.

"I told him that I would keep it in mind, but my loyalty is to the MACOs, to you and Lieutenant Commander Reed. He took the rebuff with grace and said he'd be in contact with me in the future." Romero shook his head. "Then he said that Commander Reed was not like Major Hayes, and that I was betraying my old commander by serving the new one."

Corporal Janet Money cut in. "Then I told Alejandro that if the major was alive, he'd kick Alejandro's butt for even thinking such a thing."

"Hayes would, and so would I." Travis clapped a hand on Romero's shoulder. "Thank you for your service, Alejandro. I really appreciate it."

"As do I," added Malcolm, as the Armory officer came up on Romero's far side. The MACO managed a smile, then Malcolm glanced at Travis. "They're waiting for us, Travis."

Travis nodded and took a position beside Philippe. Philippe wore a white shirt tucked into black pants, a ceremonial dagger at his side. "You ready for this, Philippe?"

"_Oui. Allons-y. _Let's get this over with." Philippe only gestured towards the stage ahead.

As chief Starfleet negotiator, he walked up the single accessway through the crowd at Philippe's side. No one was surprised to see him armed with a phase pistol or surrounded by MACOs. Malcolm Reed and another MACO took the rearguard. Admiral Forrest and Guillem Montclaire already stood on the podium ahead. Neither man looked at each other and their own MACO bodyguards hovered nearby.This was it, the moment they'd all expected and dreaded. Travis glanced sideways at Philippe, but the heir-apparent of EdML strode with his head high and a slight smile on his face. He paused in front of his uncle and bowed his head briefly. Guillem nodded and gestured for his nephew to join him on the platform.

Flashes of light dotted the audience as vidcameras recorded the proceedings. Travis blinked in the unexpected glare. He tried to keep his vision clear.

"Are you willing to take your place at the head of your mother's consortium, as is expected by bonds of blood, sweat and tears?" Guillem asked formally. He wore a long robe that reminded Travis of the ones the Vulcans wore, with the EdML insignia on the chest: an angel surrounded by thirteen gold stars.

"I am," Philippe replied.

"And whom have you asked to attend to you during this process?"

Philippe straightened with pride and glanced at Travis, then at Malcolm. "I ask Lieutenant Travis Mayweather and Lieutenant Commander Reed to be my honor guards at this momentous occasion."

"Very well." Guillem replied, even as his mouth twisted into a grimace. "Gentlemen, I welcome you in the name of the Montclaires and the Triestes. May your bonds of friendship continue for as long as the three of you shall live. My nephew can ask no better for his Stewards."

Travis thought he heard an ominous note in Guillem's tone. _As long as the three of you shall live. _He heard the MACOs stir at those words and saw Malcolm's hand resting on the phase pistol at his side. Travis knew Malcolm was also armed with other hidden weapons, as well as Hoshi, Stuart Reed and Captain Archer. He looked over Guillem's head to see _Commandant_ Etienne Descartiers. The head of the Centaurian Security Force lifted his chin in acknowledgment and a slight smile passed over his face. The CSF head kept his laser rifle at the ready at his side.

Guillem swept his hand towards the stage and said,"Come forward, Philippe, and accept the oath of service and the badges of honor, as befits the head of Estelle de Montclaire Limited."

Travis glanced at Philippe, who nodded permission. Malcolm came up on Philippe's far side and together, the three of them approached the only table on the stage. There was a long scroll, three quill pens in ink pots, wax seals and gold stamps. At another signal, Admiral Forrest slowly got to his feet and stood behind the low table, his hands clasped in front of him. His MACO bodyguard stood at his side.

Guillem picked up an old-fashioned bound copy of the EdML bylaws and nodded at Philippe. "Raise your right hand, put your left on the volume and repeat the oath, if you please, Monsieur Trieste."

Philippe did so and repeated the oath line by line, first in French, then in English. He vowed to steer EdML "to true north, in good times and bad, with my heart and soul", to "depend on the wise words of my executive board and my stewards" and to "make sound decisions to the benefit of the company." When he was finished, Guillem turned to Travis.

"Lieutenant Travis Mayweather, do you vow to stand next to Monsieur Trieste in good times and bad, with all your heart and soul?"

"_Mais oui. Je promets, je promettrai," _Travis replied in French. _I promise, I will promise._

"Lieutenant Commander Reed?"

"_Je promets, Monsieur."_

"_Bien_." A slight smile graced Guillem's face. "Then let us seal the agreement, Monsieur Trieste and Stewards. Please, after you."

Philippe took hold of a quill pen and dipped it into the inkwell. Travis and Malcolm glanced at each other and stepped a pace closer to him, protecting Philippe's back. In front of them, Admiral Forrest's eyes scanned the crowd as Philippe began to write his name on the scroll in flowing cursive. Travis's eyes flickered briefly as he met Forrest's gaze...

He saw the faint yellow target on Forrest's chest.

There was no time to shout a warning. Malcolm exploded from Philippe's side, throwing himself almost horizontally across the table at Forrest. The admiral's MACO guard stumbled as a bullet struck him in the leg, and he went over the end of side of the stage. Travis immediately tackled Philippe to the ground, covering Philippe with his body. Nate Kemper, Fiona McKenzie, Alejandro Romero and Andrew Chang surrounded them in a tight circle. In the chaos, Travis heard a loud roar directly above him, but he couldn't tell from where it came. Now his responsibility was to keep Philippe safe; he had made the Vow as a Steward.

Another sharp crack erupted over the gathering. Travis saw a stunned look come over Guillem Montclaire's face as his hands rose to touch the back of his head. The blue eyes glazed over and Guillem toppled over like a felled tree. Travis tore his gaze away from Guillem's prone body to the line of CSF regulars at the back of the audience. The soldiers had their hands full directing the guests to safety and preventing a stampede. Travis's eyes swept the line of defenders...and realized someone was missing.

_Commandant Descartiers. The top officer of the Centaurian Security Force._ A horrible sickening feeling came over Travis. _Someone who defends the king. _The knight had just slain Guillem Montclaire.

"Travis!" Fiona shouted in his ear. "We have to get Philippe out of here!"

"It's Descartiers," Travis gasped. "The head of the CSF. He's the knight!"

"What?"

"He's the one who killed Guillem Montclaire, and Rene Trieste as well. He's the one who stalled the murder investigation---"

Fiona was already snapping orders over her headset. There was a roar of stunned disbelief from the CSF guards, but they immediately fanned out in search of their leader. Suddenly, Travis heard a scraping sound and caught a glimpse of Philippe disappearing from view. "Dammit all!" Travis yelled. "Philippe overheard! He's after Descartiers!"

"Where's Romero? He's supposed to protect Philippe---" Fiona broke off as she saw Romero on the ground, a trickle of blood coming from his nose and mouth, and Nate Kemper, unconscious next to him. Corporal Chang screamed for a medic as he knelt on the stage and held a body in his arms. Travis's heart stopped as he saw Hoshi and Admiral Reed there, as well as Doctor Phlox and Captain Archer. Two stretchers thundered onto the stage.

_Malcolm and Admiral Forrest are both hurt. _Travis pushed the rage and grief aside. "C'mon, Fiona. We've got to find Philippe!" Fiona didn't hesitate, but only gestured for the medics to take care of the fallen MACOs. They took off at a run in the direction where he'd seen Philippe last and Travis prayed he'd reach Philippe in time.

Just as they reached the entrance to the Gardens, Travis heard the squeal of hovercar's overtaxed hydraulic system. A blue-and-gold 'car with the emblem of the CSF tore around the corner, heading straight for Travis and Fiona. Both of them dove out of the way with barely inches to spare. Travis rolled on his shoulder and got up in time to see Philippe following in hot pursuit. The grim look on Philippe's face frightened Travis as the EdML 'car thundered past.

A third 'car rounded the corner and slowed down enough for Travis to throw himself into the front seat. Fiona dove into the passenger compartment as the 'car sped up again. Travis glanced at the driver of the car and couldn't help but grin, despite the situation. Paul Mayweather smiled back. "Just like old times, Big Brother?"

"Just like old times. Just try to keep us in one piece, okay?" Travis replied, and he hung on for dear life as Paul hit the accelerator. They left the estate far behind and headed out of Cochrane Commons. Travis flipped open his communicator. "Mayweather to _Enterprise_!"

"_Enterprise_, D'Angelo."

"Lori, I need for you to do a scan and find Philippe Trieste. He's in pursuit of a murder suspect and he's in danger. We need to know where he is and in what direction he's going."

"Yes, sir!" There was a long pause as D'Angelo gave the order, then her voice came back. "Relaying the info to you now, Lieutenant."

Paul glanced at the scanner as it came to life. "North-by-northwest, headed towards the spaceport."

"Thanks, Lori, I owe you one."

"Deduct it from the three I owe you. And get that guy who hurt the Boss, okay?"

Ensign Lori D'Angelo was part of Malcolm's Gamma shift Armory team. Travis nodded, though she couldn't see it. "Will do, Lori. Mayweather, out."

Travis had new respect for his brother's piloting skills as they followed the sensor signal. Paul kept closing while avoiding huge ore transports and construction cranes. They dove into a narrow alley and shot out the other side, squeezing in between the pursuer and the fleeing man, with Descartiers directly in front of them and Philippe close behind. The whine of sirens echoed over the traffic lanes and other drivers hurriedly pulled over to the side to allow the CSF to pass. Descartiers glanced over his shoulder to see Paul and Travis barreling behind him. The CSF _commandant_ only opened his throttle and tried to gain a lead.

"Get us closer, Mister Mayweather," yelled Fiona. "I'm gonna try to take out his engines!"

"Yes, ma'am!" Paul hollered back and pushed the stick forward. Travis kept an eye on the scanner and realized that Philippe had cut behind them, circling so he approached Descartiers on the opposite side. _What the hell is Philippe doing? Is he crazy?_ Then Travis looked up to see Philippe heading straight for the CSF _commandant._

"Hold your fire, Fiona! You might hit Philippe!" Travis screamed, but it was too late. The first of her shots clipped the back of the 'car, but the second and third scored hits on the engine. There were two other flashes as Philippe pulled the trigger on his phase rifle. The laser bursts penetrated the viewshield and struck Descartiers at nearly point blank range. Paul pulled up and away, barely missing Philippe as he thundered past. The CSF 'car flipped over once, then ground to a stop in front of an abandoned lot.

Paul hit the brakes and Travis and Fiona clambered out. Philippe knelt at Descartiers's side and flipped the body over. The man's lips were moving, trying to say something. Slowly, the light disappeared from his eyes and the lips stilled.

"What did he say, Philippe?" Travis asked softly.

"_Je suis desole," _Philippe whispered as he reached out and closed Descartiers's eyes. "'_I am sorry_." Then he bowed his head, his shoulders shaking.


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer**: **Don't own em. Wish I did.**

**Notes: Travis and Philippe deal with the aftermath of the EdML conspiracy. There are still some loose ends to tie up, folks, and the last story in the Boomer Bust Trilogy, "Broken Loyalties" will be posted soon!**

**Thanks to all my reviewers: JadziaKathryn, Volley, and Begoogled for accompanying me on this wild ride. Cookies for all!**

**Rating: T**

**Twelve**

"Archer to Mayweather. Travis, are you awake?"

Travis groaned and rolled onto his side. He looked at the digital clock; the time on it made his eyes fly open. _I've been asleep for more than fourteen hours? Oh, hell_. He twisted around and hit the comm button. "Mayweather."

"Sorry to wake you, Travis, but you wanted to know the minute Malcolm got out of surgery.."

"How is he?" Travis felt a stab of panic; he remembered Hoshi's tear-streaked face at the hospital and feared the worst.

"He's lucky; the bullet passed through his back and missed his heart. He'll be confined to bed for a while yet, but he should make a full recovery."

Travis closed his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. Both Malcolm and Admiral Forrest had been rushed into surgery following the assassination attempt. The MACOs were also at the hospital, recovering from their injuries. The fallout of the CSF scandal had already reached all corners of the planet. The last Travis had heard, the security force was undergoing a massive shakedown. More MACOs from Earth were arriving in transports to help keep the peace while Alpha Centauri got itself reorganized.

Of course, that was a sticking point with the Centaurians and other colonists, but they didn't turn down the extra assistance.

"Travis?"

"Still here, Captain. I'm glad he'll be okay. What about Admiral Forrest?"

"Recovering as well. The doctors made Admiral Reed lie still long enough to knock him out. Turns out that Malcolm's dad is worse than his son when it comes to Sickbay stays. Short of putting restraints on him, I'm not sure how they're keeping him in bed."

"Hoshi probably yelled at him," Travis muttered under his breath.

Archer laughed at the remark. "Actually, no, she was quite logical and reasonable. He's still grumbling, but as long as she's here, he's staying put. Malcolm's mother and sister are enroute, so it'll be a Reed family reunion."

"Oh God." Travis groaned. He'd heard about the female members of the family from Hoshi. Poor Malcolm. At least Hoshi would be there to run interference, if it was needed. Then again, if Stuart could have a little change of heart, then perhaps the rest of the family could as well. _Funny what being on the brink of death would do to a person,_ he reflected, then he kicked himself for the uncharitable thought. Malcolm had turned out all right, so maybe he could give credit where credit was due.

There was the sound of someone moving, then Hoshi Sato came on the line. She sounded haggard, but relieved. "Travis, the captain told me what happened. So it was _Commandant_ Descartiers?"

Travis sighed. "Yeah. They managed to crack Descartiers's personal codes. He was pretty detailed about what he did to derail the investigation into Philippe's parents' deaths. It was almost as if he was making a full confession and hoping someone would eventually find it. Rene Trieste and Guillem Montclaire trusted him, but he betrayed them both. Sounds like he was a reluctant player in the whole thing."

"A crooked security officer with a conscience."

"Yeah, something like that."

"Blackmail?"

"I don't know. Maybe we'll find out from his logs." Travis decided to change the subject. "How're you feeling?"

"Fine. A little tired, but fine."

Travis managed a smile at the familiar reply. Hoshi had picked up some of the Reeds' habits. "And the Admiral?"

"Stuart and I have had some...interesting discussions. He has some ideas of his own about improving _Enterprise_'s phase cannons."

"Uh-oh." Travis knew how touchy Malcolm was about the phase cannons, then he heard the note of humor in the communication officer's voice. Perhaps father and son were ready to admit they were more alike in more ways than one. "I'll be by a little later, Hoshi. Get some rest. You've earned it."

Captain Archer came back on the line as Stuart Reed's distinctive voice roared in the background as Hoshi laughed. "Travis, Philippe asked to see you as soon as possible. There are a few loose ends to tie up concerning EdML that he wants to settle."

"I'll talk to him, Captain."

"See you later, Travis. Archer, out."

Travis cut the connection and scrambled out of bed. He felt a shiver of dark foreboding as he thought: Philippe was now the head of EdML, but was there any trace of the human left after what he'd gone through to get there?

Philippe stood on the balcony off the Executive Suite, his slim frame illuminated by low lights. Travis hesitated at the open sliding doors, unwilling to disturb the fragile peace. Philippe's stance was different: stiffer, more formal. Travis sighed; the easygoing crewman on board the _Enterprise_ no longer existed. A hardened man stood in his place. Travis mourned that loss, but there was no going back to the past. _Damn, but it doesn't mean I have to like the outcome. _

"Come on out, Travis. I know you're there."

He stepped onto the balcony and leaned his arms on the railing. The balcony affording a stunning view of the estate, the gardens and the sky dome above. Stars twinkled overhead like diamonds. Travis shared the silence; nothing needed to be said. After a long pause, Philippe finally spoke again.

"When are you leaving for Vega?"

"Tomorrow evening. Paul's giving me a ride on his ship, _Raven's Revenge_. We're stopping by a few other colonies on the way. 'Showing the flag' as Admiral Gardner called it."

"So you're going into Tanaka's den. I'd feel a lot better if Malcolm was going with you."

"It'll be a week or two before Malcolm can follow me. In the meantime, he, Hoshi and T'Pol are going to go over Descartiers's logs with a fine tooth comb. If the head of the CSF was bought out, chances are good that other Centaurian officials were in the conspiracy. And Captain Archer thinks that other consortiums are mixed up with it too. My job is to find them and the biggest fish of 'em all is Tanaka."

Philippe managed a smile. "And you're going after the biggest fish. She baited you, you know. She challenged you to her own game by giving you an opening."

"Paul. Yeah, I know. I don't think he's fully aware of what she's capable of. My mother's now on Vega too, as one of Tanaka's 'guests'. Tanaka's holding my family hostage and I'm gonna find a way to free 'em."

Philippe nodded at the sound of determination in his voice. "If you need anything, anything at all, let me know. As head of EdML, I've got a little pull. I owe you my life, my Steward, and my life is yours."

Travis recognized the formal words. He reached over and clasped Philippe's outstretched hands. "And know that my life is yours too, Philippe. That's what Stewards are for, aren't they?" he asked with a broad grin.

**The Boomer Bust trilogy finishes with "Broken Loyalties", coming soon!**


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